


Hogwarts and its Bat Infestation

by JustSomeStories



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU (Comics), Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Bat Brothers, Bat Family, Big Brother Dick Grayson, Big Brother Jason Todd, Damian Wayne is Robin, Dick Grayson is Nightwing, Dick Grayson loves his brothers, Family Dynamics, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Tim Drake is Red Robin, but he's so done with them
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-20
Updated: 2019-06-02
Packaged: 2020-01-23 00:17:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 22,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18538417
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustSomeStories/pseuds/JustSomeStories
Summary: Harry's days at Hogwarts were always going to be interesting, though four bat siblings only accentuated that. At first he'd thought the transfers would be the end of it, but then sightings of muggle vigilantes in the wizarding world only complicated  matters further. He wouldn't forget his fifth year anytime soon.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, I am going try to demonstrate the four bird boys in a Hogwarts setting while also taking their vigilantism into the Wizarding World. Hope you guys enjoy!

Harry often wished he was someone else. Someone without the weight of the wizarding world on their shoulders. He supposed it’d be rather nice. He could go about his studies without wondering which teacher was preparing his murder that year. Be someone who didn’t summon unwanted whispers whenever he shuffled down the hallway. 

But he couldn’t be someone else. He was stuck being Harry Potter, the boy who lived, the boy whose life was a guess who of sorts. Which whispers were about his doom? Which called him a liar? Which few praised him? It was rarely the latter.

Sometimes he hated being Harry. 

He saw a group of third year Ravenclaw girls gossiping amongst themselves as he turned the corner. His frown grew and his pace slowed as he walked by. He wished for a set of Fred and George’s extendable ears so didn’t have to so obviously listen in to what they were saying about him.

“Have you seen the new Ravenclaw?” One whispered, eyes daring over Harry’s shoulder.

He recoiled as if someone had jinxed him. He had been expecting many things; mostly verbal abuse among other things. Not that though. 

“I didn’t even know you could transfer.” A stocky blond one said. “He’s kinda cute though” 

Giggling temporarily consumed them, a deafening noise only achievable to that extent by teenage girls in Harry’s opinion. He’d have to get Hermione's input the phenomena.

“More like weird, have you lot talked to him yet?” 

Their gossip stopped as someone walked by. The boy’s hand gripped his elbow as if it would fall off, his eyes were downcast only risking darting up to catch Harry’s eye before dropping down again. It became apparent to Harry how long he’d been lingering when the chatter became about him.

“Harry’s staring at us.”

“Ew.”

Harry shuffled his feet past head turned down much like the boy’s had been. He returned to wishing he wasn’t Harry Potter. The boy was still ahead of Harry, he allowed his head to rise to look again after he couldn’t see the Ravenclaw girls anymore. 

The boy was short and skinny. Easily shorter than Harry by a couple of inches. His paleness accentuated against his ink black hair. He dragged his feet, but still made no sound. His shirt wasn’t tucked in, and his trousers were slightly too long and should have been cuffed.

The everpresent chatter increased whenever the boy stalked by a group of Ravenclaws. He would sink with each applied look. Suddenly Harry was almost glad that he was himself rather than that Ravenclaw.

“Oi, Harry.” Ron joined him in walking, matching Harry’s pace. 

“Hey, Ron. Have you heard there’s a transfer?” 

One of the few perks of being Harry in his own perspective, having Ron as a best friend. That was worth the downsides to him, or at least some of them.

“Transfer? I didn’t know you could do that.” Ron had gotten lankier over the summer and struggled to hold himself in a non-awkward way, at the present moment he was trying to seem casual by tucking his hands into his pockets. It wasn’t working.

“Me neither.”

“So which bloke is he?”

Harry searched the hall looking for the ghost like boy. He didn’t see anything, just huddles of people socializing in between class. Something that rose his anxieties, though it was vaguely nice to not have it necessarily all be about him and Voldemort. About whether he was crazy. 

It took a moment, but he caught sight of the boy being harrassed by an unfamiliar Slytherin. The bloke was massive, broad shoulder, and muscled. Harry was fairly shocked that he wasn’t prancing around with Crabbe and Goyle.

“The one next to the Slytherin.”

“Bloody hell.” Ron said. Eyeing up the Slythine a similar slew of thoughts as Harry’s snaking his way through his brain. “That bloke’s massive.”

The Slytherin ruffed up the boy’s hair who tried in vain to swat the hands away, they’d pause for a second only to return with more force. When they finally stopped the Ravenclaw looked as if he’d gone for a climb in the Whomping Willow. Strangely, the boy’s stance had straightened up despite the harassment he was facing. 

Ron had switched his position again. His arms now limply wiggling by his side. It was somehow worse than in his pockets. He really just needed to give Ron a book or something. 

Harry contemplated doing something. Though the Ravenclaw did seem to be handling it alright and-

“Oi!” Ron had gone forward abandoning trying to stand confidently but still ever ready to chastise a Slytherin. “Why don’t you go back to the dungeons.” His fingers curled around his wand.

Harry backed him up somewhat unwillingly. I’ve fought Voldemort and lived he thought this bloke’s not even that big. He was that big. His gaze had focused on Ron and his wand. He crossed his arms.

“What?”

He’d been expecting anger, a few curses shot their way, a defamation of his or Ron’s family name. Confusion was fairly low on the list of things Harry had been expecting. The boy was peeking out from behind the Slytherin watching Harry with bright calculating eyes instead of the fearful dull ones he’d predicted.

Whiplash had hit Ron as well, who spluttered. He adjusted his stance bringing his wand up towards at the Slytherin boy again. “Go mess with someone else.” 

Harry’s ears perked up as someone spoke in passing behind him. “The transfers are talking to Potter, told you they were weird.” He wasn’t the only recipient of the criticism as the Ravenclaw boy shrunk down again. He tapped a hand on the Slytherin’s shoulder who bounced him off.

“Not now, Timmy.” He said. He was still staring down Ron who Harry noted had not yet wavered in his threat. The wand was practically stuck into the Slytherin’s chin.  
Something wasn’t adding up. Harry was no expert at arithmetics, but he didn’t have to be to see neither boy was acting right. 

“Hey, Ron?” 

“Not now, Harry.”

Harry met the boy’s gaze a second time for that day, feeling his pain on a spiritual level. The boy, Timmy shrugged and Harry just shrugged back.

“Why don’t you get that out of my face before I snap it?” The Slytherin glowered. Ron’s face reddened, an old snapped wand slipped back to the forefront of his thoughts.

“You can bloody try.”

“Don’t fucking test me.” 

Harry scuffed the ground with his foot. More people were looking now. More people whispering, more people not even bothering to whisper. Timmy tried to catch his eye again, but Harry was too focused on the escalating situation.  
He’d get blamed for this somehow. The pair would nearly kill each other and he’d get blamed. Why did he have to be Harry Potter?

“Jason.” It was the first he’d heard Timmy say anything. His voice didn’t shake, it wasn’t fearful, it was still small but confidant nonetheless. “Jason, stop.”

“Excuse me.” He glared at the shorter boy. “I am trying to defend our family honor here, that’s a first for me.”

“More like your honor.” He glared back just as hard. Ron’s wand wavered, he looked out of his peripheral at Harry, a question on his lips. One that wouldn’t be asked as Timmy pushed the wand aside. 

“I’d rather be with Damian than you right now.” The Ravenclaw with renewed dejection walked off, his head re-bowed. 

Apparently this was a crushing blow to the Slytherin’s dignity who chased after Timmy saying: “I am not worse than the demon brat!” As the odd pair left so did the rather loud whispers about them, their attention refocused on Harry. He slouched beside Ron who was still gripping his wand as if the larger boy would drop from the sky.

“What the bloody hell was that?” 

Harry smirked before purposely bumping into him. “I think you threatened some bloke for talking to his brother.” 

Ron barked out a laugh. “Of course that had to happen to me.” He grinned poking Harry with his elbow. “Imagine what Hermione’s gonna think.” 

“She won’t be surprised, she already knows how thick headed you are.” A second elbow hit his ribs, this one slightly more forceful. Ron was still smiling.

“More like the whole lot of you.” Bushy brown hair popped up beside them. “Have either of you even revised for Potions yet?” She tutted as neither responded. Her arms held a pile of books and Ron had returned to shoving his hands in his pockets. Harry grabbed one off the top thrusting it into Ron’s chest who stumbled to catch it.

“What the-”

“Hold this.” He did so clutching it to his chest with his eyebrows raised at Harry.

“Uh, why?”

“Trust me.”  
He shrugged and the trio started to walk down the hallway. Harry did his best to ignore the rumors that left them in a bubble isolated from the other students. They headed up the castle towards the Gryffindor tower so they could drop off their things before heading to supper, chatting as the portrait swung open allowing them in.

“I’ve heard of transferring, but through the middle of the school year? What if they’re connected to you know who?” Hermione hefted up her books. 

“I don’t think so.” Harry said. She scrunched up her nose and headed up towards her chamber to put her things down.

Ron had found comfort on the couch and was mumbling into the pillows at Harry. “I could see that Slytherin boy being in cahoots. The whole lot of them- rotten they are.” He flipped over onto his back sighing at the ceiling. 

“I think his name’s Jason.”For whatever reason this made Ron groan louder. “He sure seemed uh interesting- I guess?” Harry said as he slunk into the chair next to the sofa. His body sinking with his eyelids. He hadn’t remember being this tired, probably the famine hitting him. His stomach grumbled in agreement

“He seemed off his bloody rocker.” Ron has returned to being face down on the couch. “Hope he’s not a fifth year.” 

“He’s got to be a seventh year.” Harry said. The fireplace was crackling and they were alone in the room, everyone else already likely in the Great Hall. The place where Harry’s stomach begged him to go. “He was huge.”

“No kidding.”

Hermione came out of her dorm now bookless- Ron as well; Hermione having taken his book before heading upstairs. She watched them her expression a mixture of bemusement and disappointment. 

“Took you long enough.” Ron grumbled, peeling himself from the couch. His gangly limbs fighting against gravity. “I’m about to starve.” 

“Made if you thought less about food and more about your revisions, your marks would improve.” She had orange cat hair on her jumper. “So what do you know about the transfers.” She cut off Ron before he could spew off a rebuttal.

“A Ravenclaw and a Slytherin, I think they’re related somehow; maybe brothers.” Harry started heading towards the entrance since neither of them were making a move to leave. Harry was faminsed and he wasn’t going to let their stubbornness make him suffer. 

Hermione hummed in thought, scrunching up her nose again and dusting off a cat hair before she spoke. “I heard of a Hufflepuff transfer, sixth year I believe.” She followed him out into the hallway with Ron at her heels. “He’s cute.” 

Ron made a gurgling noise. “None of the transfers are fit, they’re all crazy.” He pushed his hair out of his eyes. “Talk to them and you’ll see, they’re twats.”  
Hermione smiled a bit at Ron’s spluttering, before dauning a more serious expression. “Be wary of them Harry.” 

They walked to the great hall her words on the forefront of his mind.  
___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
The hall was bustling as always. The smell of food instantly alleviating many of Harry’s worries. They took a seat beside Neville who had already stacked his plate haphazardly with some sort of roast dripping in gravy.

Hermione turned her nose up at the food, not liking that unpaid House Elves had made it. She crossed her arms as both Ron and Harry filled their plates. “I cannot believe you lot.” Ron mumbled his descrepiences through a mouthful of food.

She ignored him. “Which ones are the transfers?” 

He scanned the Slytherin table where easily found the physically imposing student. He sat near the end of the table, away from the others besides a short black hair boy who looked like a first year. He nodded his head towards him. “The big one on the end.”

Hermione’s eyebrows rose, “and the other one?” He looked at the Ravenclaw table, finding it harder to spot the boy who blended into the mass of students better. He might not  
have found him at all if Hermione hadn’t spoken up.

“That’s the Hufflepuff one.” She tilted her head to the side. “Why is he sitting with the Ravenclaws?”

The Hufflepuff was good looking, Ron noticed it as well as he grumbled something into his food about ‘stupid transfers’. Though that wasn’t Harry’s main focus, beside the model-esc yellow tied boy was Timmy. The Hufflepuff’s arm was tossed around the Ravenclaw’s shoulder and he talked animatedly to him. 

“The one he’s talking to, that's the other one.” Harry watched as the Hufflepuff ignored the Ravenclaws’ questing looks as to why he was sitting with them. 

“That's the twat.” Ron contributed. 

“They’re all interconnected.” Hermione said, her hand tapping on the table as she thought. “This doesn’t seem right, I mean-”

She wasn’t able to continue as Draco called out to Harry from across the hall.“Transfers are adjusting well wouldn’t you say, Potter?” The other Slytherins joined in, watching the situation with mild amusement. “They almost made people forget about your stupidity.”

Harry balled his hands up, Hermione rested a hand on his forearm. He was preparing to call Draco a blast ended skrewt when someone beat him to it.

“What did you just say?” The voice was harsh, yet familiar to Harry. It was nice to not have the tone directed towards him and Ron this time. 

Draco’s face contorted into disgust. “Oh Merlin, you’re one of them aren’t you.” He sized up Jason. “At least your somewhat well bred, unlike those sods.”

Jason clenched his jaw. “I said, what the hell did you just say?”

“The Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff seem a bit perturbed wouldn’t you say?” He watched Jason, eyes narrowed as Draco repeated: “Wouldn’t you?”

“Can’t say I would.”

Draco watched as the Hufflepuff took no notice of the social cues trying to get him to return to his own house table. He remained rather than let the boy return to sitting alone. “Outlandish, they are, better off gone if you understand me.”

“Do I?”

“Do you?”

Silence. Just Jason daring Draco to finish his thought. And Draco, who had no dignity, did that exact thing. He barely rose his eyes as he did, not feeling the need to give Jason the privilege of his eye contact. It made Harry snort. “The ravenclaw is stunted in some manner, and the hufflepuff… why it’s just sad really.”

The breath of nothingness left the hall paralyzed. The transfers at the Ravenclaw table had swiveled around to look at Jason, one’s eyes wide in horror, the other one’s just disappointed. Harry was surprised that it wasn’t Jason who broke the silence and attacked. Instead it was the first year who'd stalked up from behind. He let out a gurgled yell as 

he launched himself towards the boy. 

“Retract your statement about Grayson this instance. I will not have you shaming my family under my presence.” Malfoy was caught off guard, both not expecting it to come from the first year, nor for him to not go for a physical attack rather than a curse. A fist clashed against his jaw, making Draco fall back into his chair dazed.

“Grayson is not what you are insinuating.” He tossed another punch making Draco flinch, but his fist was caught by Jason who pulled the first year towards him, not bothering to be careful, pulling rather roughly. 

“Damian.” Jason hissed. He kept a grasp on the first year by the arm dragging him away while the boy screamed bloody murder towards Malfoy and Jason. 

“Unhand me, Todd!”

Draco regained some composer, sitting straighter as he pointed towards the group. “My father will-”

Hem Hem- Chatter in the hall continued. Umbridge bristled before adjusting her painfully pink skirt. Hem Hem! Umbridge cleared her throat louder. It only quieted slightly. “I hope you all will remember that fighting is not permitted in the Great Hall.” She emphasized the ‘not’ as if talking to drooling toddlers. 

Snape was leaning forward on his elbows, eyes having traveled to his house with his lips in a grim line. He felt for Jason and Damian, they’d have to deal with evil encarte later. Dumbledore however looked oddly unconcerned, his hands clasped while observing the Slytherin transfers.

“Thirty points from Slytherin.” She said.

Snape glare increased. Those poor transfers.

Ron laughed next to him. “Finally, some justice.” He shoveled more food into his mouth. Hermione elbowed him. 

“Did you see that punch” She had turned back to facing the table, ever so often non discreetly looking at the transfers.  
“I think everyone saw that punch.”

“Not what I meant Ron.” She stood up. “I’ll be in the library.” Bushy brown hair hurried out of the room. It bounced with each step. 

“Shocker.” Ron said. “What’s she gonna find? A book on punching?” Harry ignored his best friend. Something had been off with the punch; it’d been too perfect- or maybe not. He didn’t punch people very often, instead he made their wands go flying. 

Perhaps it was just a weird family.  
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________  
Dick Grayson loved his brothers; he really did. Tim was brilliant, Damian was a great kid, and Jason- well he had his moments. Unfortunately when their secret identities weren’t at risk they tended not only throw caution out the window, but further defile it by stomping on top of it. 

Zatanna, Etrigan, and a somewhat reluctant Dr. Fate had pulled strings to get them inside the school. It was suspected that some Arkham escapees had infiltrated the wizarding world, how he- as well as the entire justice league- were still unsure. 

Zatanna had given them necklaces to wear to stop the few muggleborns- whatever those were- from recognizing the heirs of the Wayne family. That didn’t mean that Damian and Jason got to go in prepared to punch anyone who irked them.

Yes, Dick Grayson loved his little brothers- didn’t mean they weren’t irritating as hell. Because they were- they liked to push all his buttons at once.

“Jason what were you thinking?” Dick asked.

“In case you didn’t notice I’m not the one who punched him.”

The quartet was in dungeons next to the entrance to the kitchens. Tim was sitting criss cross reading a book of some sort. Tim was faring badly with the lack of technology, having to revert to more primitive methods. 

“I did it in your honor, Grayson.” Damian was tossing paper at Tim trying to irritate him and distract him from the book. It was working. Tim caught one throwing it back forcefully, Damian dodged, though he was angered by the retaliation.

“Little D, you didn’t have to do that for m-”

“I won’t let some imbecile make bad of anyone in this family beside Todd or Drake. I will assist if they make fun of Drake.” At least he was acknowledging some familiar relation to them. That was good, kinda… it was a start.

“So just Golden boy.” Jason said. “Like father like son.”

“He’s your father too.” Dick said, trying to stay optimistic.

“Barely.”

His siblings most definitely were not taking years off his life; they were all precious angels. Well stubborn angels. He tried to not let his smile waver. “Lighten up Jason, isn’t this kinda cool?”

No answer from Jason, Damian had returned to throwing paper at Tim, and Tim’s humanity was rapidly fading. His smile grew bigger to compensate as he clapped his hands together. 

“Alright, good talk guys, lets try not to beat anyone up by our next one.” They left the hallway at separate times, with Dick leaving last. 

He really loved them, it was just hard sometimes.


	2. A Potions Blunder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's potion class went differently than expected...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I took some direct Snape quotes for this chapter (page 232)

By the time Potions had rolled around Harry had forgotten about the transfers for the most part. Hermione had yet to though, and was spending progressively more time in the library- though what books there were on the issue he couldn’t guess. Ron was more disturbed by her absence as he now had to actually write his essays. 

Harry was counting down the days till Hogsmeade, at least then he’d get some distance from Umbridge. His hand still twitched when he thought of her sometimes, her frog-like face more slimey than it’s amphibious likeness could ever be

At the current moment, Ron and Harry were waiting for Hermione before they headed off to Potions. Potions a class now better than Defense Against the Dark Arts- somehow. Even if Harry lived in a world without magic, Umbridge’s uncanny ability to ruin everything she touched would have made Harry believe. It just wasn’t natural.

“Should I write ‘affect’ or ‘effect’ Harry?” Ron was hunched over his essay with his pencil  twirling in his right hand. 

Grammar wasn’t a large focus at Hogwarts, he hadn’t taken a genuine English class since he was ten. It was a wonder how the Ministry of Magic even functioned considering it’s employers were hardly taught how to spell and left without spell check. Though he supposed that’s what magic was for. 

“Just guess.” There was some sort of a difference, one was a verb and the other the noun. Which one? He had no idea. “It’s not like Flitwick will know either.”

Ron glanced up from his paper. “I’ve always preferred the letter A.”  He scribbled down a word, and then several more. The scratch of the quill on the paper rang in his ears, phantom pain called out to Harry; he itched his hand subconsciously. 

_ I must not tell lies-  _ Umbridge really was the worst.  

“Can’t you just waffle it? I don’t want to be murdered by Snape for being half a second late.” As if Snape wouldn’t do the same thing for being on time. How Harry hadn’t lost his head to the man yet he attributed dumb luck. Well, dumb luck and Dumbledore.

Though as of recent, he tried to keep his mind off of the headmaster. It wasn’t like Dumbledore was thinking of Harry much anymore, if his constant ignoration wasn’t sign enough. 

“I  _ am _ . Besides Hermione’s not here yet, she’s never late so we can’t be either.” With rather aggressive final punctuation placement he tossed his quill down. “Those transfers are doing Merlin’s work, I can’t remember the last time Slytherin lost that many points.” He grinned at Harry.

The transfers had not adjusted well to the rules of Hogwarts, and while the Slytherin boys had lost a decent amount of points so had the Ravenclaw boy- who apparently preferred to be called Tim not Timmy. The Hufflepuff was the only one not floundering, Harry often found him in a circle with other students.

All it took was one glance at the house points for Harry to be thankful none of the transfers had ended up in Gryffindor though. They might actually be able to win with spontaneous points at the end of the year- courtesy of Dumbledore.

Dumbledore who was ignoring Harry. What he’d done wrong he wasn’t sure, that didn’t make him any less angry. 

“Maybe we just should go- Hermione’s not showing up.” Harry had been watching the time clicking closer to his doom. She should have been there half an hour ago at the earliest and ten minutes at the latest. 

“Come on, we can’t be that behind on time. I mean she wouldn’t risk being late. How much time do we have left- like ten minutes?”

“Try five.”

Ron blanched, rather abruptly grabbing his things. The parchment he’d been writing on tore a bit in his hurry. His face had gotten paler further accentuating his red hair and freckles. 

“Yeah, she can catch up to us.” He said while trying to smooth his robe without dropping his things. He failed, with his wand dropping to the floor. He swore, and as he went to pick it back up, but instead dropped the rest of things. “Bloody hell.”

Harry scooped down to help Ron out. Ron carried his things in a disorganized pile a slightly wild look in his eyes that screamed:  _ If we’re late I’m blaming her.  _ Before running out of the room, Harry slightly behind him.

Ron could run fast when he wanted to.

They passed Nearly Headless Nick on the way, or more accurately ran through him. Nick had gaped at the pair as they ran. He’d have to apologize to him later, running through a ghost was uncomfortable for all parties involved but none so as much as the ghost themselves. As well as quite disrespectful. You just didn’t do that to someone who’d invited you to their deathday party.

Harry almost crashed into Professor Mcgonagall, yet dodged last second. Thank Merlin for Quidditch reflexes. Though she did seemed disturbed by their race to the dungeons yelling something after them.

Ron also had good Quidditch reflexes, he was a keeper after all- that didn’t stop him from nearly smacking into the Hufflepuff transfer whose name he had yet to learn. It wasn’t Ron’s reflexes that saved the student; it was his own. The dodge was nearly supernatural and Harry couldn’t help but hope that he didn’t try out for Quidditch. Those reflexes would be hell to deal with.

“Sorry!” He apologized for Ron who hadn’t slowed his anxiety fueled joyride, if anything he sped up. “So sorry!” 

By the time they reached the door to the potions room, Ron had traumatized several first years and gained angry glances from at least three different teachers. Poor Professor Sprout would have to find a new pot for her plants. 

They both entered the room both slightly red in the face, Harry a bit more so for having to apologize for Ron. Snape’s greasy hair had been the first thing they’d seen, though he’d quickly flipped around to glare at them.

“How nice of you two to finally join us. You must have taken miss Granger’s watch.” His lip snarled and Harry took notice of the distinctive lack of frizzy brown hair. “If you’d take a seat, somewhere.” 

They did so, going to their usual spot. The clock hand clicked and the class officially started. Snape made his way towards the front, his robe billowing as he walked. Someone snorted, and tried rather badly to cover it up. Jason was sitting at a table by himself, for some reason extremely amused by Snape. 

Snape ignored him, turning to the class. “I expect you to scrape an ‘Acceptable’ in your O.W.L., or suffer my… displeasure.”

Snape’s gaze lingered on the class, Neville in particular who gulped. A second snort. Jason was covering a smile with his hand his eyebrows raised. Ron glanced at Harry giving him a look that asked a question Harry had been wondering as well; did this bloke have a death wish?

Snape glowered a bit, but kept talking. “After this year, of course, many of you will cease studying with me, I take only the very best into my N.E.W.T Potions class, which means that some of us will certainly be saying good-bye.”

He glared particularly hard at Harry. A third snort however, drew Snape’s attention away. 

“Do you wish to share something with the class?” All eyes turned to Jason, who was biting the insides of his cheeks to stop from laughing. One hand still over his mouth the other curled around his quill. “Whatever’s so amusing to you?”

Jason wavered as he spoke, still clearly trying to remain composed- but largely failing. “You just…” He took a long pause struggling to not break into a fit of laughter. “You really remind me of someone I know.”

“I see…” He drew it out, the disdain practically dripping of his hooked nose. “Perhaps you if you had some more self control-”

He was cut off as the door opened and Hermione came in, her cheeks flushed. “Sorry, I lost track of time, Professor.” 

A vein on Snape’s face pulsed. He turned his attention away from the transfer who was  taking gulping breaths. Hermione had slunk over to them, head turned away from Snape. “Twenty points from Gryffindor.” Of course he’d take points from Hermione for being late, and not his own house for literally laughing at him. 

Snape wasn’t biased- not at all. 

“If you’re done disturbing the class miss Granger I’d suggest you take out your Potions book.” He sneered at her. 

She ruffled through her things almost looking as disgruntled as Ron. Her eyes widen further accentuating her ‘deer in the headlights’ expression. She raised her hand meekly, it seemed physically difficult for her, which was most concerning off all to Harry- Hermione loved to raise her hand.

“You’ve decided that being late isn’t disturbance enough?” She lowered her hand slightly. He waited for her to lower it completely, but she didn’t. He seethed. “What is it miss Granger?”

“I erm- I don’t have my book.”

“Are you alright today Granger? It seems you’ve lost your head.” Her cheeks flushed more, and her head sunk lower. Ron, as well as Jason for some reason, glared towards snape. “Seems as if you’ll be making the Draught of Peace without instructions. Hopefully you’ve memorized it.” Harry wouldn’t be surprised if she had.

“She just forgot her book.” Jason spoke up arms crossed staring down Snape. “It’s not like she burned it in a demonic summoning or something. Why can’t she just share with someone else?”  

“Sharing is not permitted, this classroom has standards that need to be upheld- if miss Granger happened to forget her book that's on her for being careless.” Snape’s glare had no effect on the student. 

Jason rolled his eyes, and stood up. “Todd, sit back down.”  

He was carrying his own book as he walked over “Chill, I’m just giving her my book, I’ve already read the procedure, it’s not like I need it.” He gave Hermione the new Potions book, it was new, with the spine having only recently been cracked. She grasped it, looking at Todd with a quirked eyebrow. 

“Thanks.”

“No problem.” He winked, Ron bristled.

He went back to his corner. Snape’s hatred growing with each step he took. Malfoy spoke up: “Professor, you can’t let Granger use that book, it’s unfair!” Crab and Goyle nodded beside him. 

Snape stalked over, flipping to the page that held the instructions. He evaluated whatever was on the page before setting it back down on her desk. “I’m afraid there’s no sign of tampering- ten points from Gryffindor.”

The Gryffindors protested, Ron’s voice being heard especially. “What for?”

“Even if miss Granger now has a book, she still came to class unprepared. Do you want more points off for speaking out of term, Weasley?” Ron stayed silent though his face had turned the color of his hair, from embarrassment or anger Harry wasn’t sure- maybe both. Snape had returned to the front of the class. “You have an hour and a half.” He straightened his back. “Five points from Slytherin.” It seemed painful for him to say.

The Slytherins cried out this time, though Jason didn’t seem to mind. 

As they started to work on the potions, Ron stuck close to Hermione trying to  ask questions. “You alright?” He asked. 

“Just got distracted.” She mumbled. Harry narrowed his eyes

“You never get distracted-”

“Well I  _ did _ , Ron.” She said shortly. Harry hadn’t thought it possible for someone to make a potion passive aggressively, but Hermione did just that. 

Overall the rest of the class was mostly uneventful, unsurprisingly Hermione made the best potion while Harry’s and Ron’s lacked in comparison. Jason’s potion was fairly mediocre, but still impressive considering he had done it from memory. 

As time for the class ran out, and they gathered their things, and started to file out. Hermione had gone to Jason to hand back the book. She rather sheepishly said: “Thank you, how’d you remember the procedure so well?” 

He smiled a bit, taking the book back and adding it to his pile of things. “I cook a lot.” He left the room, leaving just Snape, Harry, Ron, and Hermione in the room. Of course the trio left quickly before Snape could snap at any of them.

“Well, he’s not a seventh year.” Harry commented.

Ron grumbled. “I don’t like him, bloke’s full of it.” He glanced at Hermione. “Definitely something is up with him.”

She furrowed her eyebrows at him. “Maybe…” She prepared to part ways as the hallway forked. “I’ll see you lot at supper.”  

“Where you off to?” Ron asked. 

“Library.”

It surprised neither of them. Ron rubbed the back of neck, holding himself more awkward than usual. “I- uh, we could help.” 

She shook her head rather quickly saying: “Oh no, you don’t have to.” She struggled to come up with a reason and finalized on just walking off before she could be questioned. Ron’s eyes turned downcast as he and Harry headed back to their home room.

On the way back to their dorms, they caught sight of the youngest transfer- yelling at a group of sixth year. For someone so small he managed to be shockingly intimidating. “You will tell me where Grayson is!” He clenched his hands. The group chuckled uncomfortably. 

The Hufflepuff transfer, Grayson, popped out from the end of the hallway, hurrying over to the conflict. He grasped the boy by the wrist pulling him away. All Harry could hear as they turned the corner was: “Little D, we don’t yell at people.” He didn’t get to hear the rebuttal. 

Ron’s frown grew and his face scrunched up as if he smelled something. “All of them, rotten.”

Harry wasn’t sure if he agreed.

* * *

 

It was nighttime when Harry was awoken by Ron shuffling through his things. He rubbed his eyes and grabbed for his glasses. 

“Christ, Ron- what are you doing.” He kept his voice low trying not to wake up the other boys, especially Seamus. In Ron’s hands was a familiar piece of parchment. He had already spoken the words to make it work, and Harry could see little names. Most of them were in their rooms presumably asleep.

“They aren’t in Hogwarts.”

“What are you talking about, Ron?” He talked through a yawn, somewhat reluctantly getting out from under the blankets to look over Ron’s shoulder. 

“None of the transfers are on the map.” Ron thrust the map towards Harry. “Told you they were trouble.”

Harry searched the map, Hogwarts was a large place, surely he had just missed the names. Harry squinted his eyes unable to find any of the names he was looking for. Ron hadn’t been spewing a feverish ramble. He triple checked, still nothing.

Ron grabbed the map back. “What are they up to?” He said it more to the map than to Harry, as if it’d answer his question. 

Ron might have been paranoid towards the transfers, possibly jealous. Though he was objective in one manor. 

None of them were on the map. For whatever reason, none of the transfers were in Hogwarts.

* * *

 

Nightwing's return had been stress relieving for Dick. It had been for all of them; re-dauning their masks. Though it especially had been for Dick as his sweet, perfect, little brothers were rather quickly driving him up a wall.

The other’s stood beside him, perched on the rooftop of Gringotts observing the streets below. The wizarding world had been isolated from the vigilante craze that had overtaken the muggle one. 

But the wizarding world had crime just like the muggle one. 

Dick heard a scream, he took a step back, aware his brothers were doing the same motion. He ran forward jumping off the roof enjoying the feeling of weightlessness before he shot his grapple. 

It was good to be back. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The main reason I'm writing this is to improve my writing ability, so please let me know things I'm doing well or could work on. I hope you guys enjoyed it! Let me know more things you want to happen :)


	3. A Branch of Bowtruckles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jason meets a bowtruckle as does Draco, they don't agree on how to treat them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm planning on updating on Sundays, though I'll do it earlier if I finish before Sunday (like this one). Hope you guys enjoy it :)

Two days later at breakfast, Harry tried to enjoy his food despite his gut sinking as he awaited the arrival of the _ Daily Prophet _ . Across the hall, Malfoy was having an opposite reaction- absolutely giddy at the prospect of ridiculing Harry further.

He gorged on a mouthful of pancakes dripped in a caramel maple syrup hoping that as the molasses took hold in his stomach maybe the feeling of dread would leave. Of course, it didn’t.

Hermione was reading a book about magical injuries. Since the night after Potions, Ron had unofficially stopped talking to her. Harry doubted she had noticed yet; she’d been rather distracted. Over what she wouldn’t tell him.

Hermione’s elbow bumped into Ron, she muttered: “Sorry.” and Ron ate his food with more vigor, scowling after every bite. Sometimes he felt his friends lacked communication skills.

Across the hall, the Slytherin transfers huddled as far away from the others as possible- whether it was by choice or ostracization Harry wasn’t sure. They seemed to be arguing about something and kept glancing towards the Ravenclaw table. A table that held a distinctive lack of Tim. 

The fluttering of wings made Harry- as well nearly the entire hall- look up. A flurry of owls had descended, carrying with them, Harry’s personal reckoning; The _ Daily Prophet _ .

Hermione shut her book sliding it to the side so that she could open the newspaper. In doing so, she accidentally bumped Ron again, causing him to lose his fork. He grumbled as he grappled under the table for it.  

“Harry! Look at this.” She shoved it towards a reluctant Harry. 

“What does it say, Harry?” Ron popped back up from under the table and started to eat again. 

“Ron, get a new fork- that’s not sanitary.” Ron stabbed a sausage with the fork while icily glaring. Hermione's face twisted. “Are you mad at me?” He ate a second sausage, grinding his teeth especially loud. She pivoted to Harry. “Is he mad at me?”

Harry was ignoring his friends instead grazing through the newspaper. “There’s no mention of me or the Headmaster. Just a sighting of some American Vigilantes.” He squinted trying to figure out which ones. 

Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon didn’t provide Harry with much exposure to the hero world besides when they snarled about the Justice League, Superman, Batman -and the rest of that lot- over morning tea. Aliens were not normal, people dressing up as bats were not normal, as such, Superheros had no place in the Dursley household. Just as Magic had no place- just as he had no place.

“I don’t recognize any of them.” He handed her the paper back.

_ Thrack.  _ Hermione swatted Harry with the paper. “I cannot believe you Harry- those are the Robins.”  He shrugged _ “ _ Batman’s partners.”  _ Thrack. _

“Hermione, stop- please.” 

“Yeah, you’re the one who's been doing all the research, how the bloody hell are we supposed to know them?” Ron muttered into his breakfast. 

“Is that what’s got you’re acting so mental?” After a moment of silence she tossed the paper to the table. “I can’t believe you, Ron. Are you genuinely seven?”

“As if you’re _oh_ _so_ mature.”  

Harry twitched as the two continued arguing behind him. He took another large bite of his pancakes. Across the hall Malfoy looked less giddy and more angry. Apparently the lack of ammunition against Harry paired with the presence of of muggle heroes was enough to strum up some outrage. Then terrifyingly, he became oddly… content?

Through the entrance of the Great Halls Tim hobbled in. He walked to his table, a book in his hand and a limp in his step. Jason who’d been reading the paper tossed it into the face of Damian who scowled, and headed towards Tim, placing a hand on his shoulder.

“Go away, I’m fine.”

“Bullshit.” 

Tim pushed off Jason’s hand hobbling to the Ravenclaw table. Grayson was nowhere in sight, causing Tim to sit by himself. While watching the situation unfold, he accidentally locked eyes with Cho.

Cho who smiled at him.

Harry’s hand nearly went into the bacon. Sometimes his undeniable, natural grace shocked even himself. 

“Tim’s limping” Hermione abandoned her debate, clutching the _ Daily Prophet _ till it crinkled. She dropped it and grappled open her book, flipping through it. Her eyes dangled on a pendulum- searching for something.

“Didn’t know you two were on a first name basis.” 

“ _ Ron _ -”

“Just observing.”

Harry bit the inside of his cheek while side eyeing his friends. “Can you lot calm yourselves?” He swung off the bench and walked off.

“What’s his problem?” Ron’s head had snapped up. 

“Absolutely no idea”

At least they weren’t yelling at each other anymore.

* * *

 

Harry headed towards Hagrid’s Hut without his friends. A near instant mistake as he ran into Draco much sooner than desired- though everything is sooner than desired if the goal is to not cross paths at all.  

“Potter!” 

Harry took a deep, preparing breath before he turned to face Malfoy who had a Cheshire smile smudged onto his pasty face. Crabbe and Goyle slung behind Malfoy as his twin shadows.

“What?” He was promptly given the _Daily Prophet. “_ I don’t bloody want this.”

Draco ignored Harry’s attempt to give it back and instead puffed his chest out. “You must be devastated that it’s no longer all about you. How does it feel to have to share the limelight for once?”

“I don’t care. What  _ exactly _ do you want?” It was too early for this. Too early to deal with Draco- albeit never having to deal with him would be preferable. Tiredness did always seem to accentuate Draco’s idiocy though.

“For you to admit that you can’t stand the spotlight being off you. It must be hard, not being the center of attention.”

“Will you shut it?”

“My father will be horrified of the muggle filth calling themselves heroes, but I find it relishing. When they die, as they most certainly will- they are muggles after all, who will care of you anymore? Well besides to ridicule you further.”

“Malfoy-”

Draco had gotten progressively more assertive in his stance, now standing as if on a soap box. Half his wild gestures nearly slapped Harry in the face.

“Enjoy your last moments of stardom Potter… I sure will be.”

“Malfoy-“

He was ignored yet again. His desire to go to the Hagrid-less hut grew each moment poisoned by Malfoy’s presence. At this rate he’d have to go to Madam Pomfrey or St. Mundo’s; spending this much time around Malfoy could not be good for his health.

“especially considering-.”

“I don’t care about you or your bloody newspaper, you git.” Harry’s scar burned. He ripped the newspaper, throwing the strands at Malfoy whose face contorted into a renewed abhorrence for Harry. Harry hadn’t thought it possible for Malfoy’s personal vendetta against him to grow, yet he saw the hatred cultivate faster than Neville paled when Snape was around. 

He barreled away from Malfoy who in the ever growing distance yelled: “I expect you to pay for that, Potter!” 

The only good thing about dealing with Malfoy, was the feeling of relief after getting away from his noxious presence. He imagined it felt similar to someone blind as a bat putting on glasses for the first time; refreshing and clarifying. 

Hence his walk through the hallways was less abysmal than usual. The nasty rumors always seemed softer after talking to Malfoy. Today particularly, it wasn’t as bad, as the grapevine spread whispers of the vigilanties as well, rather than just him.

It was nice. 

Harry’s life’s a storm though, and for each instance of calm there was one of turbulence. As of that moment, that turbulence came gift wrapped as the Hufflepuff transfer who was racing towards him. 

“Hey you’re in Jason’s class right?” Grayson’s nearly slammed into him, his chest heaving. “Can you ask him if he’s seen Damian.” He chuckled though the panic in his eyes revealed an intensity that made Harry uneasy. “I sorta lost him.” 

“Uh sure.” He shifted his weight back and forth wishing he hadn’t ditched his friends in the Great Hall even more, particularly Ron. Harry jumped as a hand was flung in his direction, he shook it. Grayson offered him a glittering of smile that would have been charming if not for the still present, crazed look in his eyes. 

“Dick.” 

Harry stumbled internally yet even more so verbally. “Erm...” He let go of the hand, rubbing the back of his neck. He hadn’t expected Grayson to call him a dick, at least he’d done it politely- shook his hand and everything. “Sorry?”

Grayson laughed and his formulaic smile returned, though less forced this time. “It’s short for Richard.” He kept on glancing around the hallway presumably looking for Damian.

“Oh.”  Now he really wished Ron was there, not as a social crutch, but as he’d think it was bloody brilliant that this bloke willfully chose to go by that. “Harry...” He introduced, pausing before deciding to add “Potter, Harry Potter.”  

He waited for the recognition, for the inescapable deterioration of their conversation. It didn’t come. Instead Dick’s grin widened, though still no authenticity beyond his pearly whites.

“Nice to meet you, Harry.” He shifted on his feet back and forth. “Sorry for stopping you.” He rolled his eyes, exaggerating the motion so much even Professor Binn would have seen. Harry supposed If a man who hadn’t noticed his own death could notice your sass that was an achievement. “You know, brothers.”

“Are you guys all brothers, you and the other transfers?”

“You’re like genuinely the twentieth person to ask me that- we are.” He ran a slightly shaky hand through his hair.  “Though I think they’re in denial about it” 

Harry didn’t have any siblings, how could he with parents who’d died too early, though he wasn’t quite sure how they could deny it. What was that even supposed to mean? Though intrigued, Harry had just met this person and wasn’t about to question his family life. Even asking about his brothers in the first place had been painfully uncomfortable. 

“Alright I’m gonna head off- tell Jason for me!”

“Okay, erm bye, Dick.” Oh man, Ron was going lose it.

* * *

 

Ron did that exact thing when Harry met up with him outside of Hagrid’s vacant shack. They stood in the aftermath of a downpour, with the ground squishing under their shoes. 

“Really? That’s his name?” Harry thanked Dick for his interesting name preference as Rob had completely forgotten about him ditching him earlier. “Bloody brilliant.”

_ Squelch!  _ Neville’s boot slipped as he walked and he fell into a puddle getting him soaked. Seamus helped him up and pointedly walked past Harry without lifting his head.

Thankfully for Neville, the Slytherins hadn’t arrived yet except for the transfer who was talking to Hermione. The two had struck up a somewhat awkward friendship after he lent her his book; a friendship which consisted mostly of discussing more books. 

“Simon was definitely intended to be a christ figure.”

“I see what you mean, but certain aspects are a bit of a fucking stretch right?”  

The two often talked about muggle books, as Jason was an avid reader of them and Hermione never got the chance to discuss them with other wizards. Ron, despite already not reading much, only knew of wizard literature and Harry hadn’t had the opportunity to read much with the Dursleys.  

“It’s bloody freezing.” Ron’s teeth chattered. “Where even is the teacher? Hagrid would have been here by now.”

“Well he does usually right next to his 'classroom'.”

Harry was also freezing. His toes were scrunched up as were his hands. Goosebumps had sprung up along his arms, he wished he could be inside next to the crackling fire of the common room. The damp air clung to Harry like cling wrap and slowly suffocated him.

“Your company is ever disappointing, Todd-” The apocalypse came sulking over from the castle like fishflies leaving the lake for the first time. The Slytherins had also seized up in the cold, but none seemed displeased quite as much as Malfoy who was irritated by both the weather and Jason. “as is your brother’s.”

“Yeah, Tim fucking sucks.”

Malfoy’s skeleton likeness only grew beside Jason. “I meant the tiny demonic one, but all three of them do I suppose...”

The squelching of Draco’s steps ruined his attempts to be… intimidating? Beguiling? Harry wasn’t quite sure what Draco’s intention was. He sometimes wondered if even Draco knew.

“Don’t insult my damn family.”

“You act as if they deserve respect.”

 Harry and the others had to shift their feet as if they stayed in place too long, they’d start to sink.  Jason, hadn’t bothered and had sunk a couple inches, but he still towered over Draco.

“Did I stutter? Don’t insult my family- I don’t care how moronic they are.” 

Malfoy snorted and the smile that graced his face looked about as real as Dick’s. “But you just-”

“Did I fucking stutter?”

Jason took a step towards Draco.  _ Splooch. _ Somehow Jason managed to retain his glower despite the noise of his feet getting unstuck from the mud. Ron did not and started laughing- Hermione elbowed him but he didn’t stop.

“You just did.”

“Repetition creates emphasis, learn to read idiot.”

Sure, Harry usually loved to watch Malfoy get called out, but at that moment he was so cold his goosebumps had goosebumps. He’d rather they shut up until the teacher got there; maybe then he and the other Gryffindors could huddle for warmth or something.

In the aftermath of the apocalypse came his savior, Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank. She was no Hagrid, she wasn’t even half a Hagrid, but she was better than the squabbling Slytherins. Their house could have a civil war during their own time, not while Harry was freezing to death.

“Gather round everyone.” A hush settled over the group. Jason shoved Draco as he headed towards Professor Grubbly-Plank. Lavender and Parvati were the only chattering ones, still overjoyed that Hagrid hadn’t returned yet.

“What do you have?” Lavender asked, eyes alight. 

Grubbly-Plank’s fingers were enclosed around something. She had Lavender open her hands and placed a tiny green creature into her palms. Lavender let out an inhumanly high pitched squeal.

“A Bowtruckle.” Partavi murmured mesmerized by the creature in Lavender’s hands. Jason’s anger had been evicted, he stared at the creature with his mouth slightly agape. Harry couldn’t blame any of them for their reactions, the thing was cute.

She had them all hold out their hands, and placed one in their palms. Harry was beside Jason who was the last to get one. Jason holding the Bowtruckle was more hypnotizing than the creature itself. It’s minute size only accentuated in his large palm, his face was more serene than he’d ever seen it. No glare. No hatred. Just calm. 

_ He looks happy _ Harry realized- not the fake happy of Dick nor the mocking happy of Draco. He looked genuinely happy.

It was nice.

She started to list out facts about the Bowtruckles, but Harry couldn’t be bothered to listen fully only catching snapshots. “...found in England, Germany, and Scandinavia… live in trees… group of Bowtruckles is called a branch…”

He couldn’t pry his eyes of Jason, who, in turn, couldn’t pry his eyes of his Bowtruckle. Jason would nod along to each fact and though no smile tugged at the corner of his mouth Harry could feel his delight. After all, if a smile doesn’t necessarily indicate happiness, the lack of one doesn’t deny it either.

The moment almost instilled Harry with a renewed respect for the world. Voldemort may have returned and Cedric may be dead, but at least this anger filled giant beside him could find happiness in something as insignificant as holding a tiny green stick. Emphasis on almost- Draco really was a jerk.

Grubbly-Plank had gone to help Neville who was now not only soaking but struggling with a Bowtruckle gnawing on his thumb with a vengeance. No matter how much she coerced, the twig refused to let go. Draco had taken the opportunity to harass his own Bowtruckle.

He dangled the finite fellow from its hands with its legs kicking in the open air. Draco, the blonde haired boy who had to ruin everything he touched.  _ Eerily similar to Umbridge _ he realized.  He still cringed for the detention he had later that week.

Draco wiggled his hand his mouth twitching as the Bowtruckle squeaked, though unlike Lavender its squeal wasn’t from happiness. Crabbe and Goyle eyed their own creatures as if considering to join in. 

Harry felt all his newfound respect for the world vacate the premise. As in a world were a gentle giant could bond with a tiny twig, a morbid munchkin could terrorize it as well. None of the others had noticed the abuse except for Jason. The others were immersed in Neville’s battle for his thumb- a battle he was losing.

Jason’s hand was cupped around his own Bowtruckle his other fist clenched. His face was serene and though no scowl tugged at the corner of his mouth Harry could feel his anger. After all, if a smile doesn’t necessarily indicate happiness, the lack of one doesn’t imply it either.

He wasn’t surprised by the attack. He was surprised Jason hadn’t gone for a jinx, but his fist connecting with Draco’s jaw was still satisfying as was him taking the Bowtruckle into his own protective hands. Then he punched Draco again, in the gut. That hadn’t been surprising either.

Draco’s bleeding nose hadn’t been surprising. He gasp for breath hadn’t been surprising. Damian hopping from the shadows though, had been surprising. Harry hoped Dick forgave him, he’d forgotten to tell Jason about the one thing he’d been asked to. Jason looked nearly as surprised as Harry to see his little brother, then he became content as the two of them beating up Draco together. It did soon however, turn into Jason having to drag Damian away from Draco as he’d gotten to violent. 

“Why don’t you pick on someone your own size heathen!”

“Damian, you’re smaller than him!”

Damian was scratching as Jason’s arms making him swear though his grip didn’t loosen as the younger boy drew blood. Draco’s screeches and the brothers’ yells drew the attention of the rest of the class. It seemed to shock the others so much that even Neville’s Bowtruckle released his thumb

“What in Merlin’s name going on here?” Grubbly-Plank exclaimed.

After a heated argument, the brothers lost even more house points and landed themselves in detention. Draco got off the hook except for his broken nose and other undetermined injuries. No doubt he’d be milking this for a while. 

His faith in the world was slightly strained, that was for sure- bloody Draco Malfoy.

* * *

 

Later that day Jason caught Tim as he left Potions. Almost the entirety of the Ravenclaw class had left, followed by the Hufflepuffs, and lastly a lone bird. Tim wasn’t observing his surroundings, he hadn’t even noticed Jason hiding in the shadows. How the replacement hadn’t gotten himself killed yet was a wonder to Jason- especially if this was how sloppy he got when hurt.

Jason grasped Tim by the scruff of his robe pulling him aside. Tim let out a muffled breath, but his shock quickly broiled into annoyance when he saw the culprit. He tried to hit Jason’s hand off his back, but Jason caught his wrist spinning him around so he was facing him.

“Go away.”

“So are you going to tell me what’s up with your leg?” 

“I’ve got it covered.” He started to walk off but was snagged by the end of sleeve. “Let go, Jason.” Though Tim’s glare was strong, Jason had dealt with Batman, and Tim was no Batman. 

“Whatever happened to your leg didn’t happened last night, or the night before. How long have you been hiding it?” 

A couple of students walked by, one of whom Jason recognized as the red head who’d threatened him. He tried to appear a bit more friendly as they passed and less like he was about to rip out Tim’s spleen- if he had one that is. 

“Like I said: I’ve got it covered.” He tried to pry off Jason’s fingers, but couldn’t. “Why do you even care? What’s your game? What do you _want_?”

“Can’t I just be concerned, baby bird?” Tim rose his eyebrows, unimpressed.

“Not usually, pity doesn’t suit you- now I actually have somewhere to be. So if you’d let go before I break your fingers.”

_ Damn  _ Jason thought as he let go of Tim’s robe  _ when did I become such a pushover.  _ He crossed his arms and glared, trying to regain some status. Of course, Tim had also been trained by the Bat so his expression didn’t change, if anything his composure grew.

_ The stubborn bitch. _

Instead Jason put a hand on Tim’s shoulder which he immediately regretted.  _ Oh god I look like a father giving his son advice  _ It was too late to remove his hand, so he squeezed a bit making Tim flinch.

“Erm, what are you doing?” He glanced at the hand as if it was diseased. The expression of disgust was almost insulting- almost, Tim’s exasperation was worth any dirty look. “This is more of a Dick thing.”  _ Okay, rude.  _

“There’s a reason Bruce didn’t send just one of us, Replacement. You have people who’ll help.”

“Like you?”

He retracted his hand. He had already lost too much of the Tough Guy Vibe™ associated with Red Hood through this conversation and he was not about to lose anymore of it. Instead he leaned against the wall trying to reclaim his poise. It didn’t work, not at all.

“Just don’t die.”

“Trust me, I’ve got it covered.” He loosened up his stance, not intimidated by Jason in the slightest.  _ Fuck, when had that happened? _

“You better, if you die I’ll revive you to kill you again- we both know I’m not above it.” If Tim thought he could get past Jason’s vengeance through death he was solely mistaken. Especially not after he’d told him specifically not to croak; the kid wasn’t allowed to just die or whatever. 

“I’ll keep it in mind.” He paused, his hand rose partially as if deciding whether or not to wave goodbye. Tim chose not to, bringing it down to hold onto his elbow. “Bye Jay; don’t kill anyone.” 

“Wasn’t planning on it, Baby Bird.” He waited till Tim was almost out of his grasp before pulling him back a final time- mostly just to irritate him more. Tim groaned, but Jason spoke quickly as he liked his fingers intact.

“So where’s this place you’ve got to be” He tried to cast an arm around Tim’s shoulders, but he limboed out of the way. 

“Try none of your business.”

He stuck a finger in Tim’s chest. “Remember who’s in charge of your second death.”

“ _ Goodbye _ Jay.”

He briefly wondered if he’d actually become that  unintimidating. Tim walking away was answer enough; somehow he had or at least he had to Tim. As long as it didn’t spread to others, he could deal with Timbo not being afraid of him anymore. 

Could be okay even; the whole brothers thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys liked it. Also, Hagrid is currently on a mission mission for Dumbledore in the book which is why he isn't here. Also, I'm planning on introducing the first rogue pretty soon. Also, one Hagrid gets back I'm definitely going to have the trio and Jason experience Thestrals together. Lastly, in the next chapter Harry and Ron will find out what Hermione's been up to in the library


	4. A Library Stakeout

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry talks art with Damian, Professor McGonagall has a guest, some stuff happens in the library, and Umbridge meets with a familiar figure.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, this chapter ended up being longer than I was expecting. Let me know if you want time spent on individual scenes in a chapter rather than a bunch of different scenes.

Harry had no idea how he ended up in his current situation. A petite first year held him hostage with a vengeance; his weapon, a quill dripping in ink. Damian was hunched over a pad of parchment with his quill scratching away. Even if the boy hadn’t been periodically glancing up, he would have known better than to try and slip away.

Something about Damian’s tense shoulders made Harry’s skin freeze over. As Damian’s quill stabbed into his drawing of Harry’s eye, his stomach curled in on itself. He hoped that life didn’t always imitate art- he wouldn’t put it past Damian to stab his real eyes.

“Your eyes,” Damian had said before willing Harry to stay put. “They’re nice.”

“Thanks.” Harry had complied purely because he was interested in learning more about the transfer, not because the first year was terrifying. Nope, not at all. 

The idea of a Slytherin enjoying sketching was comical to Harry, but the idea of Slytherin being good at it was inconceivable to him. The mere prospect of a Slytherin having a hidden artistic gift was reminiscent of boggart Snape, absolutely ridiculous. He would have snorted if not for his prospective death as a result. 

“That’s a good drawing.” 

It was a hasty sketch that consisted mostly of cross hatching, but the rough look of it enlightened the drawing more in Harry’s opinion. There was use of a wide range of values and it was easily as identifiable as his eyes.

“I know.”

Damian placed a final line before holding the drawing up beside Harry’s face. He hummed a bit, though he still had a murderous glint in his eyes. He tapped the parchment with the tip of the quill before closing his sketchbook.

“Hogwarts is ill fitted to the arts.”

“They have a choir I think.”

It had been a grasp for some sort of normal human connection, a sacrificial offering of Hogwarts culture to the first year who had sent Malfoy to the medical ward.

“I mean the  _ real  _ arts. This blasted school has no art supplies anywhere. I don’t expect Prismacolor, but I thought there would at least be crayola in the worse case situation.” 

Apparently this first year had little appreciation for non physical arts which, while interesting, didn’t mean Harry was prepared to investigated Damian’s artistic ideologies any further. He’d prefer to leave before he was buried six feet under with a plethora of ink marks the only whispers of an attack.

“It turned out good.”

“Please, it’s not even colored! This is nearly as much of a disgrace to my family as Drake is. I don’t know if you are familiar with him, but it is quite a feat to rival his slanderous nature.”

Harry’s hand rubbed the back of his neck. The quill was still grasped like a dagger in Damian’s hand. Each time Damian’s hand tightened its grip he wanted to turn tail and leave the psychotic first year behind.

“Yeah, I’ve met Tim.”

Damian nodded and placed a hand on his shoulder. His lips thinned into a grim line his eyebrows slightly upturned. His expression was one of stoic graveness. “So you understand then. I apologize that Drake has tainted your life as well. That he had become a plague upon not just my world, but yours as well.” He shook his head and sighed. “Pity.”

Harry would have to ask how Tim hadn’t yet met the fate of the ink stained black quill, it sure seemed Damian was willing. He supposed if Tim ever appeared one day in a ditch he’d know it was at the hands of this first year rather than a death eater. 

“Don’t get me started on Todd-”

“Damian.” Dick had come down the hallway swarmed by several fifth and sixth year Hufflepuff girls, he broke from the mob- as the group of girls could only be described as such- to strut over to Harry and Damian. 

“Hello, Grayson.” Damian gave a gracious nod and his posture straightened a little bit. “Who are these harlots following you?” Some of the girls gasped.

Dick’s smile faltered, but returned unnatural and faux. He leaned in so he could whisper to Damian though his voice carried out to Harry.

“Dami, you can’t keep calling people harlots. It’s rude.”

“And?”

“Dami!”

Harry took this as his moment to make a break for it. He turned heel and left the growing dispute behind him. He was behind on schedule, though he would still likely beat Hermione who’d been uncharacteristically unpunctual as of late.

* * *

 

“Hermioneee” Ron drew her name out in puff. He was pacing around the couch Harry was sitting on. “Hermimoneee”

“I’m coming! Calm yourself.” She emerged from her dorm running down the stairs with an expression saying  _ don’t you dare say anything else about this situation; _ though it was lost in translation to Ron who’d been basking in calling out Hermione for the things she used to chastise them about.

“Really, Hermione? If you revised for transfiguration maybe you wouldn’t be in this situation.”

“ _ Really,  _ Ron? I’m running late, because I didn’t study? Can you expand on that thought?”

“Piss off.” 

It turns out Harry had managed to beat Hermione back to the common room with a gracious amount of time remaining. Being more conscientious than Hermione did cause a budding satisfaction he’d never admit. Lest he be killed in a joint conspiracy of Hermione and Damian- they could probably even enlist Voldemort to help. Hermione was rather persuasive. 

Bushy brown hair rushed by Ron and Harry into the hallway as the Fat Lady swung her portrait open. Harry followed with Ron. 

“Perhaps if you’d spent more time reading  _ Hogwarts: A History, _ you’d know it’s advised to be on time for class.” 

“Arguing doesn’t get us to class on time.” Harry muttered.

He was ignored, of course he was. If there was a way to force the two into a counselling session he would have. Maybe he could enlist Jason’s help, the dude was buff as hell. The two of them could probably manage to hogtie the pair and get them some professional help, not that he knew if the wizarding world even had therapists- likely not.

At least current squabble didn’t seem crippling to their relationship- Ron’s book pile had grown as he grabbed the books Hermione dropped. He wished Ron would carry some of his books; rushing and carrying them made his arms and legs burn.

Their speedwalking got them to transfiguration within a decent time; the only drawback being how ridiculous they had looked while walking. They had passed Cho at one point and Harry immediately had wished they’d been content with being late.

“Bloody hell.” Ron said as he handed Hermione her books back. ‘You need to spend less time in the library.” They took their seats with the other Gryffindors and singular Slytherin who’d deferred to join them.

“I’m too busy, Ron.”

“Well then be busy faster.”

Harry sat down beside Ron. Adjacent to Ron was Hermione who was next to Jason. He was flipping through his book, but stopped mid page turn. Though the book itself looked new, the pages seemed worn from repeated turning.

“Have you seen Timbo down there?” Hermione froze as Jason spoke. “I’ve been trying to figure out where he’s been sneaking out to and I haven’t checked there yet; afraid I’ll get sidetracked.”

“Nope.” Hermione said quickly. “Why, is he alright?” Her voice had shrunk and she was tapping her quill against the table. Ron placed a hand on top of hers to stop it. Her cheeks pinkened. 

“I don’t think so, the fucking idiot won’t tell me.” 

Harry thought of Damian, the small child who despite being enamored with arts seemed rather inclined towards murder. “Did Damian do something?

“I don’t think so, he hasn’t tried to kill Tim in a while.” A hush settled over the quartet and Jason gave a dry laugh. “Trust me, it’s just a phase some of us go through.”

“Us?” Ron asked. He was leaning on the table, his head partially obstructing Harry from seeing Jason or Hermione. 

Jason shrugged and ignored Ron’s inquiry. “Anyways, let me know if you see him. Who’s the teacher for this class again?”

Harry had almost forgotten that Jason was a transfer. Still, the idea of any wizard not knowing of Professor McGonagall was asinine. Harry tried to not let his shock make his voice waver. “Professor McGonagall.”

And as if she had been waiting for her name to be called she entered the room with her robes flowing and a stern expression. "Is that her?” 

“Yep.” Ron was looking at the door. “But why is-”

A second figure came through the door, not as dramatically as the first, but commandingly nonetheless. Harry hadn’t seen her for several months, and in his shock at her bubblegum pink hair said: “Tonks?”

She nodded towards him and walked up towards the front to stand beside, but slightly behind professor McGonagall. Tonks kept glancing towards Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Jason with her gaze lingering on the latter. 

“As you all are well aware, we have a visitor today. This is the Auror, Nymphadora Tonks. For an undisclosed amount of time she will be observing our lessons, per ministry order.” McGonagall steely looked at Harry and then at Jason. “Please pay her no mind.”

“What is Tonks really doing here?” Hermione asked leaning in towards Harry and Ron. She spoke hushedly. “Do you think it's on-” She glanced behind her making sure no lingering eyes or ears lurked- “Order business?”

Harry and Ron leaned in as well effectively cutting of Jason from their conversation. “I bloody bet it is.” Ron said. “Why else would it be a member and not some random bloke.”  

Harry chewed on inside of his cheek. “I don’t know, Dumbledore hasn’t seemed very interested in us as of recent.”

“What if she’s not here for you, Harry?” Hermione asked. “There’s might be something big going on here that we don’t know enough about yet.”

“Really? You didn’t find enough stuff in the library?”

“Ron! Now is not the time.”

Harry looked up towards McGonagall who had begun the lesson. Despite it being painfully clear that their trio was not paying attention she made no move berate them He heard her say something of a ‘vanishing transfiguration’ though he hadn’t been engrossed enough to truly know what that entailed. 

“What if we could contact Fluffy?” Hermione’s worried eyes didn’t discourage him from continuing. “He could tell us what’s going on, all we’d need is some floo powder and-”

“No Harry. We can’t risk him, it’s too dangerous.”  

Ron was staring towards the wall, his face blank. “But what if-”

“No!” Hermione glanced towards Jason’s book, opening her book to the page he was on. “We can discuss later. There are too many ears right now.” She raised her hand as McGonagall asked a question Harry didn’t hear. 

Upon answering it correctly McGonagall announced: “10 points to Gryffindor, very good Miss Granger.” 

The Slytherins muttered, memories of their lack luster scores coming to mind. Jason angled towards Hermione. “Nice job.” Hermione blushed, Ron seethed. 

With Hermione now engaged in a conversation with Jason, Harry spoke to Ron in a whisper. “Hogsmeade is soon, I could try to get Tonks to have Fluffy meet us there.” 

“Why don’t we just ask Tonks why  she'd here? She’d probably tell us.” Tonks was standing straight up, her back against the wall. She still looked in the direction of the Gryffindors and singular Slytherin. 

“Now it’s your turn.” McGonagall said to the class. Hermione pulled out her wand pointing it towards her snail. She didn’t get it on the first try, but readjusted her grip and tried again. The snail popped out of existence.

“Very nice Miss Granger.”

“Oi, Hermione,” Ron said. “How’d you do that?” He was holding his own wand and reading the book page futilely. 

Hermione started to explain with Harry also listening. Beside her Jason said the words and flicked his wand, nothing happened. His snail just inched a bit closer to him. He looked up towards Tonks who was watching Jason back. 

Ron tried the spell and found most of his snail vanished except for the shell. Harry tried to too and ended up with the opposite result. Still having a snail, but not the shell. Jason tried again, but still nothing changed. Not particularly unusual as most of the class was failing as well. Jason looked up at Tonks again. She looked back.

He waved his wand saying the words once again, he failed a third time. Tonks was partially behind McGonagall’s desk. Her wand hand was obscured though Harry swore he could see her arm twitch. Her jaw clenched and her eyes tapered.

Jason said the words a final time, moving his wand in the motion that Hermione had. His snail popped out of existence leaving just a book on his table. Jason let out a breath that Harry hadn't noticed he’d been keeping.

McGonagall’s eyes danced between Tonks and Jason, a light smile on her usually stern face. “Well done Mr.Todd.” 

The rest of the class was a dumpster fire. Besides Jason and Hermione, the rest of the class was unsuccessful. Even the former of the duo was inconsistent with his vanishings. McGonagall ordered them all to study before dismissing the class.

Harry waited for Ron and Hermione. Hermione was chatting with Jason as she cleaned up. “You did really fucking well with that vanishing spell.” 

“Thanks.” She turned to face the collective group. “I’ll see you lot later alright?”

“The library?” Ron asked.

She nodded her head, leaving before Ron could ask anymore questions. Usually, Harry would have been perturbed, but he was alright with Hermione ditching them as he wanted to talk with Tonks without her disapproval.

“We should go to the library,” Ron whispered, “Something is up with her.”

“You act as if Hermione doesn’t live there half the time anyways.”

“No Harry, something else.”

Harry shrugged. Tonks had made her way towards the remaining trio. “Good job today” He wasn’t sure who it was directed towards though he assumed it was neither him nor Ron. 

As he was preparing to jump in to ask Tonks about why she was there, Jason cut in before him. “Hey, can I actually talk to you about something?”

Tonks glanced over at the duo and Harry got the message. He gripped Ron’s elbow. “Come on Ron.” He complied following Harry out of the room and into the hallway.

“What do you think they’re talking about?” He asked.

“No idea, Ron.” 

The two of them walked down the corridor towards Harry assumed their common room. He stalled when Ron made a different turn. “Where are you going?”

“The library.” 

Harry groaned, but followed Ron. They were best friends after all, sometimes that meant you had to put up with their crazy. “Alright, lets go.”

* * *

 

The smell of old paper and the crinkling of parchment alighted Harry’s senses. Perhaps, Hermione had gone to the library only for the aesthetic- though not out of character, he still agreed with Ron that there was a deeper motive. 

That didn’t stop the stirring feeling in his stomach, it was as if Neville had made a potion in his gut. His insides churned as he thought of the implications of what they were doing. 

Ron was crunched behind him trying to peer past books to see other rows of shelves. His shoulders had hunched up and he was currently trying to remember where he’d picked up a book,  _ Newts of Bognor _ by Walter Aragon, from.

“Do you think her and Jason are snogging?” Ron gave up and placed it in a random section. “They’ve become good friends rather quick wouldn’t you say?”

“They can barely hold a conversation- I doubt they’re snogging. And why do you even care who Hermione's snogging?”

Ron’s ears turned as red as his hair. Harry peaked past the corner of the book shelves looking for bushy brown hair. “I don’t! It’s just that bloke’s a nutter and I don’t trust him.”

Although Jason’s interaction with Tonks was somewhat suspicious, the bloke didn’t seem to harness the same rancid attitude of most Slytherins he’d met. His experience with the Bowtruckle flew back into his memories.

“I think he’s nice.”

“Oh no, he’s got to you too.”

“Ron, I’m not snogging Jason either.”

Ron led Harry down a second aisle. They were still in the non-fiction section and had yet to find any murmur of Hermione. He accidentally knocked a book of its shelf and hastily went to replace it. 

“Not what I meant- You can snog whoever you want as long as it’s not him or Ginny.”

“You’re saying you don’t want me as a brother-in-law?”

Silence met Harry. Ron had gotten a faraway look in his eyes. It was as if his soul had vacated his body leaving an empty husk. The light in his eyes returned suddenly and he turned to Harry with a low tone in his voice.

“He’s dodgy. Did you see how he jumped Malfoy yesterday?”

“You act as if we don’t every other day.”

Ron shook his head. “It wasn’t that, Malfoy couldn’t even touch him. Malfoy a git, but for him to not even get one measly shot in… and his brother-”

“That was kinda my fault.” He thought back to the broken promise he’d made Dick. He hoped Jason hadn’t spread the news to Dick, the bloke had been rather nice and he’d feel bad if he knew of Harry breaking his only promise to him.

“What? Never mind. The ankle-biter came from nowhere though. There’s something up with them-” He leaned closer, pulling Harry by the arm to lower him towards the ground. “They’re never on the bloody map at night, none of them.”

They had been so busy slinking silently they’d nearly slammed into Jason who was crouched in a similar fashion to them. He steadied himself with a hand on the shelf beside them.

“What the hell are you guys doing here?” He ran a hand through his hair eyeing Ron and Harry. His posture was closed off, startlingly defensive. 

“oh piss off.” Ron, ever the helpful one, said. 

”Alright, I’ve got places to be.” Jason bounced his shoulders and started to head away from them. Ron backtracked, the curiosity inside of him taking over.

“Wait! What are you doing here?” Ron’s voice reeked of an underlying accusation. A question as to why the bloke would ever dare to sneak around while they themselves were doing the very same thing.

“Hell no, I asked you guys first”

A break in their conversation. The only thing any of them heard was the distant sound of footsteps and pages turning. Realization hit Ron like a brick straight between the eyes.

“Harry don’t do it”

He did it. “We’re trying to find Hermione so we can see what she’s been up to.”

Jason glanced over Ron and Harry towards the wall. His mouth curled into a frown. “so you’re spying on her? She’s gonna be pissed.” He crossed his arms, looking ridiculous as he squatted with a displeased look on his face.

“Why do you think we’re bloody sneaking around?” Ron spat. 

“I don’t think you understand the purpose of a library.”

Harry considered once again that Ron  _ was  _ his best friend so he should try to defend his honor to some extent. “As if you’re reading anything.”

“Yeah, what are you even doing exactly?.” Ron smiled a bit at Harry’s gift of the cavalry. With renewed support he spoke with more confidence.

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m trying to spy on Timmy, but I can’t fucking find the little shit.”

Ron spluttered. He raised both his eyebrows and mimicked Jason’s crossed arms. “That’s not at all hypocritical. And how hard is it to keep track of one Ravenclaw?”

“Fuck off, you guys don’t know Tim like I do.” Jason had stopped crouching and fallen back into sitting on the floor. Though his shoulders were tense still, spring locked almost. 

“I wouldn’t have bloody lost him….”

“Keep telling yourself that, I didn’t lose a whole fifth year.”

Ron’s face returned to a deeper shade of red to the point his hair had blended in. It was difficult to see where his hairline was as the distinction between hair color and skin tone had been blurred. “Oi, only a fourth-“

“Wait.” Harry had looked through the bookshelves and caught sight of bushy brown hair hunched over a book, completely immersed. A smaller figure was beside her, pointing at something on the page.

“Harry!” Ron’s mouth was agape at Harry’s betrayal. That Harry dare stop him midpoint. He shut his jaw and it tightened.

“No you lot look. There’s Hermione and-”

“Timmy?” Jason’s voice was hollow. “Why the fuck is he with her?”

“Why are they-” Ron asked. “Did you know?”

“Nope.” Jason had stood up and was starting to walk down the aisle so he could confront the younger boy about his whereabouts. Harry caught his arm and Jason shot a feral look back that for a brief moment made Harry seize up. Thankfully, Jason didn’t punch him and instead pushed Harry’s arm off.

“What? I’m trying to go make sure my idiot brother’s alright.” 

“Remember, we’re  _ spying _ .” Harry did not want Jason to reveal he and Ron were there to Hermione and risk her rage, or more so her passive aggressiveness.

“Like hell I’m staying put, why the hell are they reading books about magical injuries.” He was snooping around the corner. “I won’t rat you guys out, but I’m not just going to just not do something” He rushed around the corner heading towards Hermione and Tim.

“Replacement!” He said. Tim head snapped up and his face turned white. “What the  _ fuck  _ are you doing.” Tim closed the book he’d been holding and stood up. Jason glared down at him and Tim glared up.

“I told you, I have everything covered.” He held the books spine against him and a hand over the cover, concealing the title. “Can you leave please?” He gave Hermione an apologizing smile. “Now?”

Jason snatched the book from Tim flipping it open. Harry and Ron tried to watch without being seen. “You do not have everything covered. Tell me what’s wrong with your leg, or I’ll tell Dick.”

“You wouldn't.” Tim tried to grab the book back, but Jason held it out of his grasp. “Give it back, Jason.” He said it with an eye roll.

“Tell me what the fuck is going on.” 

“I don’t have to tell you anything.” Tim had gotten up from his chair. “You don’t have to pretend to care.” He took a lunge for the book, Jason rose his hand higher still. 

Hermione caught sight of Ron and Harry behind the bookcase her nostrils flaring. “Why are you two here? Ron, are you genuinely that obsessed.” She glared at them. The two came from their hiding spaces, heads hung. “I can’t believe you lot!” 

The library wasn’t very busy and only a few heads were turned in their direction. A seventh year Hufflepuff shushed them. 

Tim made a jump for the book and missed. When he landed his leg buckled slightly. “Timbo?” Jason’s hand holding the book had lowered. The other hand was reached out slightly towards Tim as if unsure as to what to do. 

Tim grabbed the book back. “Leave me alone.” He headed past Jason, still limping. A snarl was present on his face. 

Jason turned to look at Hermione his eyes narrowed and eyebrows raised. “You didn’t tell me-”

Hermione tossed her book back on the table. “I am not dealing with any of you right now.” She stood up. “All of you- crazy.” She headed out of the library as well.

Ron turned to Jason. “Harry did say to not confront them.”

“Shut up, Weasley.”

* * *

 

Umbridge patted down the front of her pink skirt to try and fruitlessly get out the wrinkles. Her nose crinkled slightly as the perpetrator of her displeasure emerged from the undergrowth. Why such a  _ supposedly _ acclaimed muggle figure would chose such a place to rest was beneath her. Though she supposed even distinguished filth was still filth. 

“I thought more of you would be coming.” She kept her poise as the figure flitted over to her, the thicket practically clinging to her. Her red hair stood out against green of the foliage and the white of her skin. 

As someone who wore an unsavory amount of pink even she was displeased by the woman’s gaudy hair choice, the red seemed rather tacky to her- reminiscent of the blood traitor Weasleys. Her nose crunched up a bit.

“Well, in good time.” Her voice was raspy and Umbridge had to strain her ears to hear. “The others are just  _ overgrown _ with hysteria to meet this ‘Harry Potter’ you told us of.” She got closer to Umbridge, her breath breathing down her neck. 

“Yes of course.” Umbridge placed a finger on the figure’s on the redhead’s shoulder pushing her back a bit. “Though our world holds a standard and I’m afraid your… attire,” Her face contorted more upon observing her scandalous attire. “will make you stand out.”

The woman raised an eyebrow but stayed silent. She held out a hand and the thicket that had been following her formed into a stool with a matching one appearing beside Umbridge. She took a seat, Umbridge did not.

“Don’t care for a seat?” Her mocking tone turned Umbridge’s face purple. With a swish of her hand the stool had fallen into the sea of vines. “That’s alright, though I think we should discuss our agreement.”

“I thought your leader, the clown, had already finalized the deal.” She pursed her lips. Just like muggle filth to be unable to properly deal with a predetermined plan. Beyond their level of comprehension

The woman narrowed her eyes. “He is not my leader.”  She placed a hand lovingly on one of the plants. “I am not containable, though that is neither here nor there.” She leaned forward, a playful smile arose, concealing something darker. “No, I have a proposition I think you will find rather…  _ favorable _ .”

“Then please tell me.” A muggle had no sense of conciseness, that much was blatantly apparent. “I am running on a schedule after all.”

The gruesome smile grew. “Well, I was reading one of your lovely papers the other day- I believe it's called the _Daily Prophet_ - and I took notice of a rather _budding_ issue you and your ministry seem to be facing.” With each word she drew out, Umbridge’s face became a darker shade of purple. “It seems as though you’ve gained a bat infestation”

“What in Merlin are you spouting nonsense about?” She hadn’t heard of anyone in the ministry make any mention of a bat problem. 

The woman grinned and she leaned forward further, her smile changed into a smirk, a smirk of someone who knew something she didn’t. She didn’t like others knowing things she did not.

“Some birds have flown too far from the nest.” She crossed her legs the smirk still apparent. “I think you’d call them ‘muggle vigilantes’.”

Umbridge broiled. The only thing worse than having to rely on muggles using some dulled down muggle plant control was muggle vigilantes.  She stood a bit taller and leaned forward slightly, encouraging the woman to continue.

“So the new proposition. We keep the already decided upon conditions, but we get to deal with your bat infestation.”

“I suppose that is possible, although I’ll to speak to some people first.” Umbridge brushed her skirt again. “What of the rest of your people, are they going to be coming soon?”

The woman stood up the seat dissolving behind her. She pushed a strand of red hair behind an ear. Her voice still sultry. “Soon.” She started heading back towards the forest before pausing. “I trust you’ll be ready for our arrival?”

“Of course.”

“ _ Lovely _ .”

It was only when the woman was nearing the groves that she realized she hadn’t got her name. “ _ Hem Hem.”  _ The woman turned around. “I don’t believe I caught your name.”

“Ivy.” 

With that, she entered the forest, leaving Umbridge to question the revolting woman as she apperated away. Positively repugnant. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys like it <3


	5. A Brotherly Bonding Session

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian and Dick bond while fighting crime, Jason and Tim while wandering the halls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to show all the brothers getting close to one another, so I'd thought I start with these relationships. Eventually, they'll all have their moments together.

Dick was transported back to his days of wearing the cowl; just him and Damian against the criminal underbelly. Though this underbelly used fewer guns which was nice, almost like a vacation where the tour guides had magic wands and a superiority complex. 

He’d had worse vacations. At least most of the wizards didn’t use the unspeakable curses with the impending threat of Azkaban looming over them. Occasionally, one would get to brave and mutter the words of reckoning. It pissed Dick off.

“Avada-”

He whacked his escrima stick into the man’s temple mimicking Jason’s pistol whip. “Nope, not dealing with that today.” The man crumpled, his wand cluttering out of his hand. Dick kicked it away for good effort. 

“Muggle filth, The Dark Lord will cleanse the- Aghh!” Damian launched himself onto the woman’s back like a rabid koala, he pulled back to bring them both downwards. He rolled as they fell causing the woman to hit the assorted stone paving, her head slamming the ground with a  _ Clunk _ . 

“I prefer our lowlife, they’re less annoying.” Damian checked the woman’s neck for a pulse while he thought Dick wasn’t looking, bottom lip twisted. Damian launched up stepping back with his arms crossed behind his back. “She’s fine… unfortunately.” 

“Little D, I’m so glad you’re past your murder phase.” He wiped a mock tear. “Tie her up and let’s head out.”

Damian did such, securing the woman to the bench beside which she’d fallen. Dick did the same with the man he’d fought, the dark mark seething at him on the partially exposed arm. Dick tossed Damian the wand and he cracked both sticks underfoot. 

“Come on.” Dick started to scale the building they were beside, some sort of Dark Art specialized store. It started with a  B though he couldn’t recall the name. He gained purchase on the roof with seconds later having Damian join him.

“Do you think one of these, ‘Death Eaters’ cursed Drake?” Damian was hunched low masked eyes scanning over the crumpled figures. 

Dick’s ruffled Damian’s hair and avoided the vicious teeth. “I’m not sure.” He leaned forward, arms supported on his bent knee. “Let’s just try to make it past today without any more of us getting cursed.”

It wasn’t long before three  _ cracks _ echoed throughout the narrow street. Aurors surrounded the felled figures. A bubblegum haired one grasped the broken wands in her hands, eyes turning to the rooftops. Dick squatted out of view next to Damian. 

“Looks like someone’s been doing our job again.” 

“I’m not complaining, we’re still the ones getting paid. Let’s get these two out of here before anyone comes to find them.” Two  _ cracks.  _ Dick peaked over the side of the building. No sign of any of the Aurors. 

_ Crack.  _ “Is Hood alright?” Bubblegum pink hair addressed them. Tonks stood out against the shadows that concealed the brothers.

“Tt, Hood is on babysitting duty. He is fine.” Damian hadn’t emerged from his hiding place. “Would you please be at least somewhat conspicuous so your tabloids don’t learn of your involvement?”

Tonk’s hair changed from pink to black and she leaned down beside them.“No idea what a tabloid is. Glad he’s alright, but that’s not why I’m here.” She pulled out a mulberry pouch and removed a playing card. “It’s addressed to you lot.” 

Dick grabbed it pulling out a grinning a joker card.  _ See you soon bird blunders.  _ A smudge of red lipstick was under it as if signed with a kiss. His stomach turned and he briefly flashed it at Damian before tucking it into his belt. 

“Thanks.”

“So you know who it’s from?”

Hysterical laughter. Dick could hear it in is bones, a chilling chuckle. The grin of a murderer. The card felt heavy in his utility belt. “Yep.”  He ran a hand through his hair before getting up along with Damian. “We’ll look into it.”He stepped to the side of the building grappling hook ready. 

Tonks took half a step forward. “Keep me posted, Dumbledore and the rest of the Order will want to know details.”

“Course, come on Robin.” He jumped, shooting the grappling hook as he was tumbling downward. A second line flew alongside his, Damian’s smaller figure reached the next rooftop moments after him. 

“It is not just him is it?” Damian asked. The two ran across the roof jumping to the next one. Dick heard the distant crack of Tonks apperating away.

“I doubt it, Robin.” He caught sight of a hooded figure, he stopped walking. “There’s been no sightings of any of them… They’re up to something.” He tossed Damian the calling card. “Still prefer our criminals?”

“Tt.” He examined the card, twirling it between his fingers. “Best to not let Todd know of the clown.” He scowled at the message scrawled beside the joker.

“No names, Little D.” He leaned forward, the hooded figure had gone into the Leaky Cauldron. Dick caught sight of a pink underskirt under the darker cloak. “Let’s be careful around the reds though. Red Robin’s leg still needs to heal and Hood… uh, he has some pent up feelings.”

Damian was laying on the ground. His eyes peering at the entrance to the bar. “We sound like Father. Keeping everyone in the dark.”

“It was your idea.”

“Yes Grayson, I never said it was bad, imbecile.” He scowled. “Father would be upset if they got themselves killed going after the Joker. Well, Drake getting killed, Todd would probably be doing the killing. He does seem to hate the clown.”

Dick groaned flopping onto the ground. “Little D, how did you manage to say everybody’s name?” 

“Tt.”

Dick thought back to the hooded slightly pink figure who’d entered the pub. It’d be a hot second before they came out. Dick sat up, crossing his legs. “How are you liking Hogwarts?”

“It is sufficient.” He crossed his arms. “Though it is idiotic that only third years and up are allowed to learn of magical creatures. Do you think Pennyworth would permit a tree in the Batcave?”

Yep… his siblings were going to be his cause of death. A part of him had always assumed he die young- in his line of work one always had to be prepared for that- though he hadn’t thought it’d be from stress.“You are not taking any Bowtruckles home.”

“Fine, Tt… tell that to Todd though.”

Dick stabbed his finger at Damian. “None of you guys are taking anything home. I will know if you try to sneak anything back Little D.” He swung his arm around Damian pulling him into a half hug. He huffed but didn’t pull away.

Damian had grown so much since he’d first dawned the Robin costume. A surge of pride countered Dick’s growing stress. The underhanded concern that Jason or Tim would get themselves into trouble. He pulled Damian in tighter.

“Grayson-”

“I’m proud of you.”

Damian stiffened. “Grayson, the figure has left.” Dick saw the hooded figure now without her hood. She was holding something in her hands, something similar to what Tonks had given them. He caught sight of the grinning figure on the card.

“Is that-” 

“Umbridge.” Damian supplied. He glowered and raised his grappling hook. “I can go get her.” Dick caught his arm.

“She works for the Ministry, this goes deeper than B thought. We have to play this carefully.” 

Damian hesitated before putting his grappling hook away with a huff. “Fine.”

_ Crack. _ Umbridge disappeared playing card still in hand. Dick started walking back across the rooftop. “We should get back, tell the other two.”

“Just leave out some details.”

“Exactly.”

* * *

 

Tim was silent as he crept from his common room. His footsteps like the patterning of a cat; each footfall mute except for a gentle  _ pat _ , not that he couldn’t further silence that as well. It serviced instead, as a comforting sound in the silence. Its rhythmic pattern a pendulum keeping him grounded in the darkness. Afterall, he was a bat through and through, not a cat, and a bat could be as silent as they wanted. He just didn’t feel like being quiet at that moment.

The castle wasn’t troublesome to navigate- intricate yes, but not difficult. A few late periods had been worth the exploration. His leg still throbbed though, at the repercussions he’d faced. 

       The biggest wildcard to navigate was the ghosts who would materialize through a wall more gracefully that he’d ever seen Bart phase. He kept to the shadows as a man already dead had little sense in checking the darkness. Well,  _ most  _ dead men, he knew some exceptions.

_ Pat, pat, pat. _ That time it wasn’t him. He turned a corner and slunk again the wall, deeper into the embrace of darkness. Mrs. Norris skirted past with her yellow eyes leering.

       He paused for a few moments after the patterning had disappeared. His eyes fixated on the doorway down the hallway that’d lead to the moving staircases. From there, it’d be easy to go on patrol without the worrisome eyes of the other birds. 

He had always thought Dick would be the real issue, the guy was too sentimental for his own good, but it hadn’t been him who’d been the trouble. It hadn’t been Damian either. It’d been Jason. Jason who seemed to not want Tim dead for whatever reason. 

Jason’s concern made Tim’s sense of reality warp, as he had several scars from times when Jason had most certainly  _ not _ cared for his well being. Tim’s throat closed when he thought about it, whether Jason meant malice or not. Jason had been spending more time with the bats even after Bruce had redawned the cowl from Dick. But still…

_ What was the motive?  _ He couldn’t pin one down, a reason why Jason would bother to tweak his eyebrows up each time his step faltered. 

It made guilt bubble deep to think about, questioning everyone’s intent, but Tim was alive strictly because he didn’t accept things at their face value. Some might call it paranoia; he called it readiness. And he rather liked being alive; the Grim Reaper doesn’t do coffee runs.

He double checked the corridor he had come from for yellow eyes or ghostly figures, before heading towards the door. He walked instead into a brick wall.

“Go away.” He gritted his teeth at Jason who wore an obnoxious grin. When Jason had gotten there, he wasn’t sure. Afterall a bat can be silent when they wanted to be.

Are you sure you’re the smart robin? Cause you’re acting like a damn idiot.”

“Why won’t you leave me alone?”  He looked over his shoulder, maybe a detour could save him from whatever sappy sentiment had infected Jason. “I’m  _ fine _ . Hermione’s helping me with the leg, It’ll all work out.”

“Promise?” Jason imitated an obnoxious child, sticking his pinky out and everything. Tim shoved Jason’s hand away.

“Headass.” Jason still watched him, a mockingly pleading look still in his eyes. “Fine... I promise...” He dragged it out, making sure his displeasure dripped off every syllable. “How long were you there for?”

“Long enough to see there’s no way you’re patrolling tonight.”  He grasped Tim by the cuff of his sleeve. “Come on, Timbo.” Tim reluctantly followed as he wasn’t about to be dragged by Jason to wherever they were going.

Musty corridors and a winding staircase up a tower, it didn’t take Tim long to figure out where they were going. His gut dropped into hell to chat with Satan, no way he was going back to his common room. 

He became a car stalled at the top of the staircase; Jason held onto his sleeve a bit tighter, but also stopped. “What’s up, Replacement? Don’t want to mess up the riddle in front of me?” He positioned himself between Tim and the staircase, an eyebrow quirked.

“I- Why don’t we walk around? Then you won’t have to worry about me leaving again.” He was careful to not shift his weight, Jason wasn’t Cass, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t read body language. He stayed casual in his slouch. 

Jason let go of Tim’s sleeve. “Alright, why the fuck not.” He crammed his hands into his pockets. “If we get caught, I’m pushing you under the bus so much.” He prodded Tim in the chest.

They headed back down the staircase. Tim watched for moments that he could ditch Jason, but few arose. “How come you’re not on patrol?”

“Take a guess.” 

They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. He caught sight of the Grey Lady floating through the wall ahead of them. Tim pushed Jason down a different corridor that headed towards the entrance hall. 

“Nice save, Timmy.” The hallways seemed different at night. The darkness hung around them. For others, it'd be suffocating, but for Tim, he was wrapped in a heavy familiar blanket. It was better than the chatter that came when the Ravenclaws were walking around… a few in particular. 

He probably should check out his leg soon. It was starting to become noodle-esk again. He didn’t let himself stumble if he did Jason would only have a renewed goal to stop him from hitting the rooftops with the others.

“So…” Tim was letting his feet patter again, Jason’s footfalls were silent. “Why do you care? You haven’t said yet.” 

Jason looked as if Tim had physically taken a fold-up chair and beat him with it. The same corned animal that appeared whenever Tim launched an emotional onset arose; as if Jason had left the hallway and been replaced with a venomous bunny. Not exactly intimidating, but still dangerous. He’d have to tread the glass they stood on carefully lest it shatter and leave him cut up.

“I…” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Don’t?” He smiled a bit as if that made the two-faced lie anymore palpable.

“Mhmm.” A flustered Jason was a distracted Jason. “Of course.” Upon seeing the flickers of candlelight from Filch they backtracked a bit. Tim bit the inside of his cheek, they’d been so close. So very close.

“Hey, Jay?” The hallway had a smell of something he couldn’t place, maybe someone had spilled a potion on their way to class. It was a mix of rosemary and seaweed. 

“Yeah, Replacement?”

“You don’t have to feel bad about caring.”

Jason’s sputtering was immensely satisfying, mundane revenge against the multiple times Jason had tried to kill him. Jason avoided eye contact with Tim. “If you die, then I’d have all the bats breathing down my neck. I don’t want to fucking deal with that.”  

_ There it was _ . Tim had suspected as much- not malicious intent, but a self-sustaining one. His heart pinched a bit, but he shoved that away.  This was the logical answer. Self-interest, it made sense. 

“Ah.”

Jason twitched. They were nearly at one of the smaller exits, Tim let his limp be noticeable. His companion stiffened after taking notice, another twitch. The door came into sight. He forced a stumble- well, more fell into a stumble. His leg had been trying to stumble for a while, and he finally let it. 

He was caught by the shoulder, but the hand recoiled as if touching Tim had scorched it. Slightly offensive, but he’d get over it. 

“Why don’t we stop for a little bit? You can sit down if you want or something.” The inkling of concern, a self-motivated facade. 

“Sure.”

Nonetheless a facade he’d manipulate till he was miles away with the wind hitting his masked face on a peeked rooftop. He didn’t sit down, but he did lean against the wall. Tenseness was leaking into his shoulders, a telling sign he begged Jason wouldn’t notice.

“Hey Timbers?” 

“Yeah?”

Jason had his eyes downcast, for whatever reason unable to meet Tim’s. He couldn’t recall a moment Jason had seemed so distracted. 

He took a step forward.

“I didn’t mean what I said.”

He took a step back. 

“Replacement, I don’t want you to end up dead at the end of some weirdo’s kindling.” Jason’s voice right now sounded the same as if he’d been shot. A hidden tremble, he’d heard it so many times it would have been nostalgic if not for its morbidity. 

Tim spluttered that time. He leaned back against the wall. “I… what?” He sat down, supporting his back against the wall. “You alright, Jay?” Maybe Tim shouldn’t be the only one benched. “Get hit too hard on the head?”

Jason dragged his hands down his face. “Fuck Tim, what do you want me to say? Obviously, I don’t want you to die.” He grabbed his side letting out a feigned gasp of pain. “Ouch, my dignity.” 

He tapped Tim’s shoulder and pointed at nothing in the lovely ominous darkness that swallows them. He dragged his hand following the nothingness. 

“Look there it goes.” Jason offered Tim a hand, “Come on Baby Bird, I think I heard a meow.” Tim hesitated. “You better except my help, I did just give you amazing blackmail material.” Tim sighed but grasped his hand and Jason pulled him up. 

They headed away from the exit, Tim’s escape, not that he was even thinking of the rooftops anymore. He was long past that. Calculations swirled through his head and no matter how seemingly out of character it was, it didn’t seem like Jason was lying.

It was weird. 

“So, Timbo… are you going to actually tell me why your leg’s hurt.” His gaze was on Tim’s leg. It’s limp had gotten less inconspicuous against his best efforts. “I was trained by B too; it had something to do with the common room, right?” 

Tim stayed silent but bowed his head. Apparently tanking one’s house’s points was deemed unacceptable. Although, unlike Damian and Jason, he wasn’t about to risk their secrets by throwing hands with anyone who crossed him. 

“Fuck them.” Jason balled up fists and clenched his jaw. Tim didn’t tell him their names and Jason didn’t ask. He was fine with the former, but not the latter. Jason not asking mixed with the steely glint of his eyes could not bring about anything good.

Tim pats were offbeat, turning instead into a pitter-patter:  _ pit pat pit. pat.  _ Though his limp was irritating it did create a rather relaxing beat.  

Maybe it was the absurdity, maybe it the lack of sleep, most definitely it was partly the coffee withdrawal, but he suddenly found himself sick with sentiment. 

“Jay?”

A hum to continue. Almost all of the green from the Lazarus pit was gone leaving behind just the family classic blue eyes. Blue eyes none of the Gothamites could ever imagine any of the bats having as they could never blend all the way into the shadows; they were too bright.  

“I don’t want you to die either.”

Jason shook Tim back into reality, grabbing him by the shoulders and twirling him around. His finger shot off, shaking as it pointed at something.

“Jay?”  Adrenaline entered his veins as an espresso shot straight into the bloodstream. “Jay? What is it?” He didn’t see anything in the darkness, but that was hardly meant nothing was there. He hadn’t seen Jason in gloom either. 

Jason took a deep breath- an uneasy breath. He looked at Tim with sorrowful eyes barely visible in their perpetual twilight. “Tim… oh god….”

“Jay?”

He made a mournful cry, that was muffled to not alert the castle. “You don’t see it? It’s your dignity.”

“Oh, Fuck off.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you liked it, I'm not sure if my justification for Dick and Damian not saying anything made sense


	6. Staircase Fiasco

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ron walks in on something he shouldn't have seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is kinda short, sorry!

“Do a flip!” Ron couldn’t tell which of the four boys said it, the gruffness of it made him think Jason. Nonetheless,  he plastered himself against the stone wall anyways. Ron was many things, but a man with a death wish was not one of them.

“I can’t do, what if someone sees?”

“Fuck them,” That was definitely Jason. “Come on Timbo’s broken, you gotta cheer him up.”

Ron peeked past the corner catching sight of three of the four brothers. Tim sat against the wall a bored expression on his face. Jason and Dick were at the top of the moving staircases

“Don’t drag me into this.” Tim leaned forward a bit. “Though it would be cool, just saying.” 

Ron was well aware Harry found his uncertainty towards the boys to be misguided, obsessive even. If he was here though, Ron believed Harry would have a change of heart- maybe Hermione too.

No, she wouldn’t, she was too stubborn.

“I can’t, Timmy.”

Jason started booing and Tim pouted. A meow broke their conversation and Ron pulled himself back against the wall. He hitched in his breath, there was no way that’d the trio wouldn’t get caught after making as much noise as they had.

They might as well have painted a neon, glow in the dark sign saying we’re out of our dormitories on the wall. They’d practically left out a can of tuna for her to find them with their exclamations. He heard the footsteps of the cat as Mrs. Norris skirted down the adjacent hallway.

He could imagine her leering eyes. Those yellow eyes would haunt him decades after he graduated from Hogwarts. If he graduated that is, Hermione was refusing to help him with his homework.

Or even talk to him.

The pattering footsteps of the cat disappeared and Ron peaked his head out interested to see how the trio hadn’t gotten reprimanded by the feline and its master. The stairwell was empty, no sign of any of the boys.

“What the bloody hell?” 

Seemingly detaching themselves from the shadows the three brothers returned to their argument as the re-entered the candlelight. 

“Do a flip.” 

“Will you guys shut up if I do?”

Both brothers chimed in with an enthusiastic: “yes!”

Dick sighed and took a step back. Ron stuck his head into the hallway thankful the other boys were too preoccupied watching Dick to have noticed him.  The candlelight lit up his face and reflected in his widening eyes.

_ Bloody Hell. _

Dick launched himself off the top of the stairs yet, just like Ron, he didn’t have a death wish. He twisted himself into a roll, the spinning momentum causing him to twirl not just one, two, or even three times. 

But four.

Ron sucked in his breath, though not out of fear of getting caught, but from the sheer audacity of what he had witnessed. What even was his life at this point, was he dreaming- he had no idea.

Dick landed on the stairs below him not a single stumble in his step. Jason and Tim cheered as he continued with his demonstration. He pushed off the landing he’d ended up on with his hands doing a back handspring into the abyss of moving parts.

Who even were these people?

Hands met the railing of the stairs and no fault in his moment occurred. He swung up and the stairs came to him as though he’d called them to him. He jumped back and forth from the railings, only letting a single foot touch down as he ran back up the banisters to his brothers.

_ Blimey. _

The end of the stairs, only a long drop to the bottom below him. A chasm stood between him and his brothers. He gave them a salute before hopping into the dark drop to the ground.

Ron stepped out of the hallway, his eyes wide. No way had he fell… no, he couldn’t accept that. He watched the staircases, no completely exposed to the brothers if any of them decided to turn around.

A set of hands gripped the edge of the staircase. Dick swung himself back up through a final spin landing on his palms and doing a final front flip to land  in front of his brothers and do a bow.

“There, I did a flip.”

Tim golf clapped and Jason poked Dick in the chest with a small smile. “I’ve seen better, Goldie.”

What the actual hell?

He took another unconscious step towards them. Harry and Hermione were wrong. These weren’t normal transfers. There was nothing normal about them. He had to be dreaming. 

“How dare you spy on Grayson?” 

He was tackled to the ground by a tiny body, his nose crashed against the stone. “So now the Demon shows up,” Jason said. 

“I told you guys someone would see.” Damian was pulled scratching off of him. “Little D, how many times do I have to tell you not to tackle people?”

“Grayson! He was spying. Honorless scum.”

Who were these people?

He got up a hand going to his nose. He’d sure get just a wonderful bruise tomorrow. He took a couple steps back holding his palms up. “Look I don’t know what I walked into, but I’m just gonna leave you lot and go bed.”

“He’s just a fucking good gymnast,” Jason yelled trying to soothe over whatever situation Ron had caused by catching sight of whatever he had just seen.

He took off running away from the psychotic family. When he got to his dorm he landed on his bed face red and breath shallow. What the hell had he witnessed; Like walking in on a family murder, though instead of murder they were bonding over acrobatics. Why had they looked so guilty.

What the hell.

Harry rolled over having woken up in Ron’s rampage. Neville had as well, but rolled back over trying to go back to sleep. Both the other boys had slept through his mad dash.

His lack of glasses and the darkness made him squint at Ron.“What’s going on Ron?”

“I’ll tell you in the morning.”

“Ron?”

“I just need some time to process.”

What the hell. Hermione had to believe him now, something was up with them. That contradicted normal in any connotation it could be contextualized as. They were not who they said they were.

What the hell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys like it :)


	7. Umbridge Allegations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys like it

“Blimey, Ron, what did you slip into your pumpkin juice?” Harry took a prolonged sip of his own nectar. “-and can I have some of it?” 

Hermione had given up on sitting with them and wasn’t present in the Great Hall. As such, he only talked in hushed tones to Ron who was presently aggressively rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“This isn’t some bloody potion, Harry. He did like seven backflips,” Ron ran a hand through his hair alongside a groan. “Why would I lie about this.”

“I don’t think you’re lying, Ron- just mental.” He added a slab of ham to his plate. “You seem obsessed with them.”

“You weren’t there, I was; I saw it, Harry. They’re demons or something,” Ron shuddered. “They practically transfigured themselves into the shadows! It’s not normal… its mental!”

“I got that the first five times you said it,” Harry clicked his tongue. “but I’ve seen some mental things, so it’s not completely daft- just mostly,” He looked over the brothers in the hall. “But what does it mean?”

“That they’re up to something.”

“He jumped off a staircase, Ron, he didn’t murder Dumbledore.”

Ron waved his hand. “Please, as if anyone could murder Dumbledore.”

Harry shrugged looking up at the long table of all the teachers. They were all there besides Hagrid: Dumbledore, Flitwick, Umbridge, Snape, among others. He took in Snape briefly who scowled when he caught Harry’s eye. 

“Yeah, I don’t think anyone could either,” He dropped his chin into his palm. “On a cheery note, I have detention with Umbridge today.”

As if anticipating for the invisible needle that’d cut it open later his hand twitched. He looked back up at Umbridge with her face an insult to the frogs of which it resembled. 

“Sorry, looks like we’re both dead then. Umbridge is going to snuff you out and the transfers are going to do the same to me.” Ron kept glancing past Harry towards the brothers who’d all circled up at the Hufflepuff table.

“They wouldn’t even curse you, Ron- maybe punch- but not anything past that.”

Ron’s face paled. “Yeah, but have you seen their punches? I think I’d rather get jinxed.” He took a placating sip of pumpkin juice. “Dear Merlin, just strike me down where I stand.” He slumped against the table. “I’m the only witness, Harry… I’m so dead.”

Harry gripped Ron’s shoulder. “It’s alright. Dick’s coming over though.” 

Ron sunk deeper against the table with another shudder. “So dead.”

“Hey, Ron, right?” Dick tapped Ron on the shoulder his smile faux. “Can I talk to you for a quick second? Promise it won’t be long.” 

“Alright.” Ron left the table following Dick out of the Great Hall with increasingly stressed and drawn out glances to Harry as he was led away. A near constant hand ran through his hair as he got farther away. 

He’d be fine. As if Dick would do anything, even if his smile was plastic it still held an organic kindness. If he did, a broken nose was nothing Madam Pomfrey couldn’t fix up. She’d already done it for Malfoy.   

Another bite of the ham and he set down his fork. Detention with Umbridge, a true joy. It took restraint to not let his head lull against the table in the same way that Ron had. He gave up letting it clatter against the wood.

Detention. What a joy.

* * *

 

“Professor?” Tim stood in the doorway of a dazzling room. Mysteries of the Wizarding World surrounded him. If Zatanna had been there she would have fainted. 

“Yes?”

“I want to talk to you about Professor Sprout’s new assistant,” He stood hands in his pockets as he looked towards Dumbledore who faced away from him. Nonetheless, he still pictured the half-moon spectacles dangling off the tip of his nose.

“Ah yes, Miss Pamela. Oh, I mean Professor Lillian,” Dumbledore turned around. His eyes were a dazzling blue and though they seemed kind Tim’s skin crawled. It what was behind their twinkling: the calculations and the planning. He saw eyes like those too often.

“Who hired her?” He asked.

“Why Professor Umbridge did.”

Tim nodded and turned to leave muttering a thank you as he’d left. He needed to find Dick.

* * *

 

Drops of blood still dripped from his hand. He kept it tucked inside of his sleeve, a half-hearted attempt to keep it concealed. As always, it’d been just him, Umbridge, and a quill- oh, and a whole lot of pain.

Hence, the blood. He could smell its metallic scent and feel its stickiness. Umbridge’s goading made his defiance worth it; each a scratch evidence that he’d peeved her. Still, he’d rather have dedicated himself to going against a normal person rather than the psychopath Umbridge was.

Even Snape would have been better.

Walking down the hallway, the only sounds were his hollow steps. He turned a corner and caught sight of Damian and Jason leaving their own detention sessions, neither looking as injured as he did. 

He would have preferred to not have to encounter them at all and it was apparent Damian felt like-minded; his glare nearly as sharp as Harry’s quill had been. Jason didn’t share the same sentiment, making his way towards Harry.

“Hey, have you seen Dick?”

“No,” Harry made a turn to leave, but Jason sped up to walk beside him with Damian following some paces behind grumbling the entire time.

“What about Tim?” Harry pulled the sleeve down a smidge as to further.

“No.” 

“What happened to your hand?” Damian asked. The first year had come up on his otherside making Harry jump. Scrutinizing eyes bore into Harry.

Harry stumbled in his step. “What?” He continued walking trying his best to ignore the feral first year. “Nothing happened.”

Jason looked down at Harry’s sleeve that concealed his hand. He scrunched his nose but didn’t ask any further. “Detention with McGonagall is goddamn boring.”

“Todd-”

“They used to send us into the Forbidden Forest.” Harry changed the topic barely bothering to cover his glee. He wished he had as he felt Damian’s attentive stare increase tenfold. “Hagrid used to take students out there.”

“Who’s Hagrid?” 

Just like with asking who Professor McGonagall was, being asked who Hagrid was felt the same as getting hit with a bludger to throat. “Hagrid teaches Care of Magical Creatures, but he’s ‘out’ right now.” Harry shrugged. “He should be back soon.”

“Is he tall?” Damian asked eyes never leaving Harry’s sleeve.

“Very.”

“Ah, so that is the buffoon I saw earlier.”

“Hey! Don’t talk about Hagrid like- wait, he’s back?” Harry’s breath caught in his throat. He had to find Ron and Hermione. If Hermione would even see him that is. Fitting them all under the cloak had been getting more difficult, but they could manage and-

“What the hell happened to your hand?” In his craze of learning of Hagrid’s return, he’d let the sleeve slide up past showing his cut-up hand. He quickly pulled it back down feeling his face flush.

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit, did that Zachariah kid do this too?”

“Zachariah? No, why would he- it was Umbridge.” Harry had given up on trying to walk away. Instead, he awkwardly leaned against the wall hands in his pockets. Something that in all honesty, would have hidden his hand better.

“Umbridge? Isn’t she a teacher or something?”

The universe didn’t seem as rattled when someone who asked Umbridge was. The less her sickening pink self entered the lives of others the better. He looked at the brothers both of who had turned to face him. 

“Umbridge is a teacher,” Damian confirmed. “And I already pointed out there was something up with his hand- perhaps if you weren’t so thick-headed, Todd, you would have taken notice earlier.”

“Geeze, Demon, cool it.” He looked at Harry’s hand that had quelled its bleeding for the most part but was still coated in dried blood. Jason squinted a bit. “You should rub some alcohol on it. Infections are the fucking wors-”

Damian elbowed him. “Todd.”

“What the hell?”

Alcohol? Harry squinted at the cut his face contorting at its mere existence. “I don’t think I have to erm... you know  _ magic _ and all.”

Jason snapped his finger into finger hands and did an over exaggerated wink. “Right, magic.” He nodded a few too many times. “That works also.”

Damian elbowed Jason a second time. “Todd, shut up.”

He huffed and crossed his arms. “We really have to find Dick now though.” Harry’s gut sunk, they were going to tell Dick about this. He shifted his weight a tad.

“I’m going to go then.” 

Jason waved him away and turned back to Damian and leaned down to whisper something. Harry took the invitation to leave greedily. The sounds of the brothers bickering could still be heard as he made his way down the hallway.

He looked down at his hand and the words etched into it:  _ I must not tell lies.  _ It was practically what Ron thought of the brothers, liars. He couldn’t help but wonder if any seed of truth lay at the base of his obsession. 

The sound of the brothers cut out as he turned another corner. He’d have to talk to Ron about his talk with Dick. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next Chapter: Damian and Jason's time in detention


	8. Jailhouse Rock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hermione, Ron, and Harry make a discovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you like it!

Luckily enough, Dick didn’t kill Ron. He hadn’t even physically attacked him from what Harry could tell. Considering how their endeavors usually went, Harry was fairly relieved. A win for their temporally fractured trio. 

“What did he want to talk about?” They sat in the common room with only a few other Gryffindor first and second years lolling around. The fire was lit as usual and basked them in a hue of orange-yellow.

“The four are Muggle-born. Apparently, Dick-” Ron snorted at the name “-grew up in a circus.” 

“So you don’t find them suspicious anymore?” Even if Ron’s current paranoia was incurable, at least the symptoms could be quelled. At least to some extent.

“They’re mental. Answering one question didn’t change that.”

“You’re right,” Hermione said. She exited from her dorm and Harry wondered if she’d been waiting at the door to make a dramatic entrance. “They’re not normal. Not in the slightest.”

Ron was spluttering: either from Hermione’s support or that she was speaking to him again. Harry assumed it was a blend of both well mixed in a cauldron.

“I am?” He faltered, but quickly reasserted his poise. “Bloody hell I am.” He puffed out his chest wiggling his eyebrows at Harry. He chuckled at Ron’s antics; they were a grounding presence. 

She dead middle of the other couch slightly hunched. Not as close as possible, but not as far either. As though she was dipping a toe in the water of their friendship: checking. Harry readily splashed her.

“Did you find something out?”

Hermione perked up, raising her head to meet theirs. “I did.” She ran a hand through her bushy brown hair smiling at the opportunity to share her findings. “Jason and Damian have both demonstrated physical adeptness. From talking to Tim, I determined the same thing; to a lesser extent though-”

“Harsh,” Ron laughed easily falling back into their old dynamic. Hermione scooted a bit closer on the couch.

“-the only one I haven’t seen indicate it has been Dick, but his erm- body would suggest it.” She said hurriedly, blushing slightly. “Still, a confirmation would be more solid.”

“He is,” Ron said. “That bloke did a whole acrobat act on the staircase yesterday.”

She blinked at Ron, processing the information. “He did?”

“Yeah,” Ron straightened out more so as he contributed. “Even if he’s working for He Who Shall Not Be Named, he’s got a bloody good routine.”

“If he’s Muggle-born why would they be working for Voldemort?” Harry asked. Hermione flinched at the name. “How does their athleticness relate?”

“I don’t think they work for you know who,” She was at the point of leaning against the armrest towards them. She had gotten close enough to the fire beside them that she too was tainted orange from the fire as well. “The opposite actually,” She dropped her voice while side-eyeing the first and second years. “They’re working with Dumbledore.”

Ron punched the air. “I told you, Harry! Something was up with them.”

“Saying: ‘I told you so’ really makes me support you,” Harry said with an eye roll. “So they work for Dumbledore.”

Hermione was giddy at that point. If she started pulling out diagrams Harry wasn’t sure what he’d feel; not surprised, that’s for sure. Her bushy brown hair bounced with her.

“Not for, Harry, with. They work with Dumbledore; he hired them,” She ran another hand through her hair. “Think about it: the Ministry, specifically Fudge, doesn’t trust him right now. But, You Know Who’s back, Dumbledore can’t just leave the school unprotected. So, who does he call?”

“The circus? Some American children?” Ron asked.

“No. Who’s been sighted around the magic world recently?” She watched them eagerly eyes darting back between the two of them. She bit her bottom lip in anticipation.

“The vigilantes,” Harry whispered.

Hermione jumped out of her seat and pointed at Harry. “Yes. Dumbledore has connections, so he calls Batman. Batman would stick out, so he sends his allies.”

Harry wished Hermione  _ had _ brought out diagrams. Point A had been connected to Point B, but he wasn’t sure how to feel about the journey to get there. It seemed plausible. 

“Bloody hell...” Ron said.

She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “And we’re going to enlist them as well.”

“What?”

The couch sank as she sat next to Ron. “For the-” she lowered her voice once again “-Defense Against the Dark Arts meetings.”

“Are we doing that?” Harry asked meekly. Hermione nodded firmly and Harry sighed before continuing. “So the brothers’ are just here for Dumbledore? They don’t have an alternative reason for being here?”

“I don’t know,” Hermione admitted. She got up from beside them; excitement still radiated off of her. “Vigilantes, at Hogwarts.” 

“Mental vigilantes,” Ron said with a laugh.

The next day, Hermione wasn’t late to join them on their walk to Herbology.

* * *

 

“Tt. This is unnecessary,” Damian was sitting beside Todd in McGonagall’s classroom waiting for her. “If Father was here-”

“Do not mention Bruce right now- or ever actually,” Todd was at the opposite end of the room glaring at Damian. “Why the fuck were you even there? You were supposed to have been in Herbology.”

“Herbology is boring. I decided to change my schedule.”

“Your normal teachers must hate you.” 

Damian stayed silent. A kernel of truth had been popped by Todd. His teachers at school were rather… uneased by him, as were his classmates. Whatever curse had been befallen him had clearly followed him to this Hogwarts, Father had sent them to.

McGonagall walked in followed by Tonks. Damian found Tonks acceptable. She was similar to Grayson in many ways and preferred to be called by her last name. He wished Grayson would follow her example, he often heard giggling about him. 

He wasn’t sure why Grayson was constantly being followed by giggling girls, but he suspected it was his name choice. He’d have to investigate more.

“Unacceptable,” McGonagall said. She reminded him of Pennyworth, the man not the cat. Firm and not to be crossed. “You two assaulted a student.”

“Tt. He deserved it.”

“You are here to protect the students, not attack them.”

“Wrong, we’re here to kick the Rogues back to Arkham,” Todd crossed his arms. “Where they’ll stay... because that’s never not worked.”

Tonks sighed. “I’d say try Azkaban, but we seem to be having a similar problem.” 

“This is not the time for conversations,” McGonagall brushed down the front of her robes. “You two are here as students and will be treated as such. I have quills that need checking.”

“How do you check a quill? You guys should switch to pencils,” Todd was ignored as McGonagall went behind her desk to procure a box full of quills. She went over to a desk and plunked them down.

Damian glowered at the box. “This is insulting. I am the son of Batman, heir to the cowl. This is below me”

“Take a step back, I think your ego’s going to snap your neck,” Todd said taking a seat at the desk. He pulled a bottle of ink, a pad of parchment, and a quill from the box. He scratched something on the parchment. “Would you look at that. It works like a quill.”

“This busy work is unnecessary.” 

Todd made another scratch on the paper. “Wow, two for two,” Tonks snorted from beside McGonagall. She tried to cover it with a cough that fooled no one.

“I would start now,” McGonagall said. “Otherwise you may miss patrol. Is that what you lot call it?”

“Fine,” Damian said pulling a chair to the table and sitting as far away from Todd as possible. He grabbed his own supplies and checked the quill by drawing a picture of a cat. He wished Father would have permitted him to have brought Pennyworth. 

“I’ll check in after dusk sets in,” McGonagall left followed, once again, by Tonks. The door clattered as it closed leaving just the brothers in the room.

“Hey, Demon spawn,” His insufferable companion held up his paper. A poorly made stick figure had been drawn with excessively angry eyebrows. “I drew a picture of you.”

Damian dipped his own quill in the ink and started scratching away at the parchment. He could feel Todd’s eyes watching him and he made two final lines on his own picture before lifting it up.

A light sketch, if he’d had more time he could have made it better. Still, he found that the likeness was decent when the scratched out eyes were overlooked. “What the fuck? That’s actually good. Do they have art classes in hell?” 

“I am not from the underworld, Todd,” He threw the paper at Todd who caught it. “It is simply skill. You would not understand; not with your lack of any such thing.”

Todd started to add something next to Damian’s drawing of him. He held it up showing the outline of a bird. It was presumably a Robin, not that anyone would have been able to tell without context. It was atrocious.

“Why is it only half colored in?”

The bird was nearly all shaded in except for a sliver of white at the top. Damian squinted at it. Jason pointed at the shading with a shit eating grin. “This is your badness level, it’s unusually high for someone your size.”

Damian snatched the paper. “Todd, I did not see you as someone who would quote Disney.” 

Todd dropped the quill he’d been holding and blinked at him. “You’re kidding me right.  _ You’ve _ seen  _ Lilo and Stitch, _ ” Todd slapped his hand against the table knocking over his ink on accident. “You’re genuinely Stitch, like some demonic alien made in a test tube who doesn’t understand human customs.” 

“This is not funny,” He crossed his arms. “It was a subpar movie. Grayson made me watch it.”

“You just didn’t like it because you didn’t get any royalties from being in it,” Todd talking in between laughs. “Were you confused at first? Like ‘ _ ah shit someone found out my secret identity and made a movie about it’ _ ”

“Stop laughing,” When he didn’t, Damian grabbed his own bottle of ink and poured it on top of Todd.

Todd gasped and grabbed his own -partially spilt- bottle. Damian soon found himself drenched as well. Black inked dripped down his face and onto the table. “You shall pay for this, Todd,” He grabbed a new bottle of ink and lunged for Todd.

* * *

 

Three hours later when McGonagall returned she found Damian and Jason covered in ink. Her classroom had been turned into a warzone: the desks had made two forts, the floor of no man’s zone was colored black, and the box of quills rested knocked over and spilled.

“Think of the Geneva convention!” Jason cried as Damian chased after him holding a quill like a knife. 

McGonagall considered stepping in; she really did. McGonagall was a strong soul and if she’d been a bit stronger she may have snapped at them, but there were a few too many war crimes going on even for her.

She walked straight back out the door and down the hallway away from whatever she’d just witnessed. Thinking of the mess she thanked Merlin for magic.

Still… Why had Dumbledore forsaken her?  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you guys thought! Hope you enjoyed <3

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave recommendations for things that should happen, I'd appreciate it :)


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